Puckleberry Shorts
by GoingVintage
Summary: A collection of unrelated one-shots  prompt fills from over at the P/R Drabble Meme on LJ .  High school stories, future fics, happy endings, sad endings - all Puckleberry!  COMPLETE as of 5/21/11 - no longer filling prompts.
1. Just one dance

**Author's note: ** So I decided to post these over here since I've filled over a dozen prompts and you have to be a member of the LJ PuckRachel community to read the drabbles filled on the meme. As I said in the description, each chapter will be a different prompt fill.

First one up:

Prompt:

"Just one dance, Berry. Then I'll leave you alone forever."

* * *

It takes one phone call. One phone call on a Friday night is all the separates Rachel from the happiness she felt before then to the confusion that seems to haunt her now. And the lead up to her junior prom, which should have been full of excitement, now feels like a chore and she's not even sure she wants to go. If she didn't have a boyfriend who so desperately wanted to take her, she would stay home.

...

Her dress is gorgeous, she knows. It's long and silver, strapless and beaded, with a slit up to her thigh. Her toes have been manicured and she's in a delicate pair of silver, strappy heels that give her nearly two more inches of height but an immeasurable amount of confidence. Finn looks so handsome in his suit and together, they smile while her dads and Burt and Carole all snap a hundred pictures. But as they leave, her Daddy puts his hand on the small of her back and nudges her gently. When she looks up at him, he winks and blows her a kiss. Her smile isn't quite reaching her eyes and Daddy knows it.

The ride over to the hotel where the prom is being held is quiet. Finn's got the radio on and she can tell that he's nervous and jittery as he taps his fingers along with some 80s hair band that's blaring through the speakers. For two weeks now, Rachel's felt like she was living in a murky haze. Nothing has outwardly changed at all, though. She's still with Finn and had been for nearly ten months now. They're still singing duets in Glee, going on dates every weekend, and are a McKinley power couple. But ever since that phone call, Rachel's felt like it's all a charade.

Finn kisses her cheek when he helps her from the car and she smiles up at him, curling her fingers around his forearm as they walk into the building. They're directed to the ballroom and when they get inside, Rachel's actually impressed. The decorations are sheer and wispy and the room almost looks enchanting. As soon as they have their picture snapped, they make their way towards the tables where the other Gleeks are waiting. Rachel's relieved that _he's _not there yet. Ever since that phone call, she's been avoiding him. She refuses to meet his eyes and goes out of her way to not see him. Considering he's a part of her life as a classmate and teammate, it's difficult. And factoring in that he's been on the fringes of her life, seemingly _always _there in one form or another for a lot longer, it's nearly impossible to fully circumvent him. But she's done it as much as she can and she hopes that tonight, they won't cross paths. This night is about her junior prom with her _boyfriend _Finn. It _has _to be. She needs to find a way through this haze and reconnect with what she felt prior to a 2am phone call two weeks ago.

Rachel engages in conversation with Tina, who's on Mike's arm. Mike's eyeing the dance floor and finally can't control himself anymore. With a gentle tug at Tina's elbow, he pulls her out among the throng and starts dancing. Rachel sees Artie sitting at the table, watching the pair with a pained look in his eyes. She reaches down and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and he smiles before his eyes lock on Tina again. Rachel can't help but think that it seems a lot of the Glee boys are pining for people that they can't have.

"Hey, Rach, you wanna dance?" Finn asks once the conversation has slowed down. Rachel nods and takes his hand and lets his large, awkward frame lead her to the floor. Their arms go around each other easily and comfortably and Rachel leans her head against his chest and closes her eyes. She loves that Finn is so solid. And her relationship with him is solid. Well, it was. Before that phone call and before her mind started spinning with these thoughts and feelings, it was. Now it's still there and it's still solid but yet it feels… it feels like it was built on sand and now it's just one good shakeup before it collapses down around them like a house of cards.

When the slow song ends and a fast one comes on, Rachel opens her eyes and lifts her head. Finn bends to kiss her and once they part, she turns toward the table. It's only then that she feels his stare. She discreetly surveys the room but can't see where he is. He's not with the other Gleeks and she doesn't see him with the jocks, either. But she can feel that he's there and suddenly, the haziness seems to thicken and she starts to wonder if she's going to make it through the night.

Finn leads her to the table and she plops down, sucking down some ice water from a goblet. She hears a chair scrape across the floor and looks up to see him pulling out the chair across from her. Her heartbeat seems to catch, pausing just long enough to make her lose her breath before it begins to beat erratically. She hears him talking to Artie and then the two of them are laughing but she refuses to look his way. Instead, she and Brittany admire each other's corsages and up-dos. When a slow song comes on again, Finn says, "Rach? Do you care if I dance with Britt?"

Rachel gulps because the words from that phone call from two weeks ago seem to come rushing back with Finn's question. If he dances with Brittany, she's going to be left alone and exposed at this table. But she can't very well protest a friendly dance so she feels herself nodding and then watches when Brittany quickly stands up and takes Finn's hand and they disappear onto the floor. She hears Puck clear his throat and she knows he's trying to get his attention but she won't look at him. She _can't_. She feels like she's frayed and all it will take is one look from those hazel eyes to completely unravel her. So she sits there and watches Finn's arms wind around Brittany as they dance across the floor. And when that song ends and another song comes on, Finn stays out on the floor with Brittany and Rachel decides she's going to escape to the bathroom. But then _he's_ standing in front of her and his arm is on her shoulder and she can't avoid him anymore.

"Wanna dance?" he asks.

Rachel shakes her head. "No, thank you, Noah. I think I'll pass."

She feels his hand tighten on her shoulder and he says, "Just one dance, Berry. Then I'll leave you alone forever."

Artie is staring at them strangely so she acquiesces and stands up. Puck takes her hand and leads her out onto the floor, his arms wrapping around her the moment they fall into step.

"You've done a hell of a job avoiding me," he says. His voice is low and she can tell, from the thick way the words sound, that he's burying his frustration.

"I…Under the circumstances, Noah, I thought it was for the best."

Puck snorts and links his fingers together at the back of her waist. "For the best for _who_? Because the way I see it is that if you weren't affected by what I had to say, you wouldn't have spent the last two weeks avoiding me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rachel shakes her head and lets the lies flow easily off her tongue. "Did you ever think that I was giving you space out of the embarrassment I feel _for you_? I mean, you had the nerve to call me, your _best friend's girlfriend_, while you were drunk and say… and say those things."

Puck's eyes narrow and he stares her down. "And then you started pretending like I didn't exist. You know what that tells me? That tells me that you feel the same way that I do but you have no idea how to fucking handle it because it's not part of your 50 year plan for you and Mr Perfect."

Rachel starts to argue but Puck shakes his head and continues. "Because if you didn't feel the same way, you wouldn't act so fucking jumping whenever I'm around now. You feel guilty."

"I have nothing to feel guilty about!" Rachel argues. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"Nobody said you did, Berry. But, _shit_. I put my fuckin' heart and my rep on the line to tell you like a goddamn douchebag that I've got a thing for you. I've tried to ignore it and kept blaming it on the tiny little skirts but dammit, there's more than just friendship between us and you fucking know it. Yeah, I called you when I was shitfaced but what I said was true. If you don't feel it, too, fine. Just fucking tell me. Stop avoiding me and tell me. I'm a big boy and I can take the rejection. But I think you do feel it and you're just scared."

Rachel meets his eyes and her lips part. There's so much she could say right now. But then she sees Finn out of the corner of her eye and he's watching them intently and it makes the haze start to crowd around her again and so she says, "I don't feel that way about you, Noah. Now please leave me alone." And when she slips from his arms and leaves him by himself in the middle of the dance floor while the song still plays, he doesn't follow her.

* * *

The rest of the prom is miserable for Rachel. She dances with Finn and Mike and Sam and, even though she doesn't mean to, she finds herself seeking out Noah. Her eyes scan the crowd but he's nowhere to be seen. And she doesn't feel his eyes on her at all so she knows, even without confirmation, that he's gone and he's not coming back.

Although it's clichéd and expected to get a hotel room after the prom is over, Rachel declines and tells Finn that she has a massive headache. He looks very disappointed and Rachel feels awful but she can't stand the thought of being in that room with him and doing _those things_ with him when her mind keeps falling to someone else. So instead, she kisses him on the lips sweetly and chastely before letting herself out of the car. She waves at him until his car disappears and then she goes inside and grabs her own keys off the hook by the door.

Minutes later, she's parked in front of the small white house with the green shutters that's just three streets over. There's one light glowing in the living room window and his truck is out front but his mom's car isn't. And as Rachel sits there, her eyes fixed on that warm light emanating from the house, her tears collect and begin to fall. She's so confused. Before that phone call, it had been so easy to ignore what she felt and pretend that there wasn't anything there. But with the ringing of a cell phone and just a sentence full of honest words that keep replaying in her head, everything is now off-kilter. Her life is now spiraling out of the beautiful control with which she normally has over it just because Noah said, "I want to be with you and I think, if you'd let yourself admit it and not freak the fuck out, that you want to be with me, too."

When Rachel pushes the door of her car open and steps out onto the street, she realizes that there's no going back. But then again and even though she's been strictly practicing denial and avoidance, there was really no going back once her phone pulled her from a deep sleep two weeks ago. She makes her way through his yard and stops midway, pulling her heels off and letting the cold, damp grass soothe her aching feet. But it does very little to soothe the ache in her heart and the pounding in her head because there's really only one thing that will soothe those. Once she's climbed the two concrete steps up to the door, she takes a very deep breath and then knocks softly.

Puck pulls the door open almost immediately and he's still in his tux pants but his shirt has been replaced with red sleeveless one. He's got a can of soda in his hand and he seems both surprised and annoyed to see her. "What?" he asks, his voice cold. "I thought you'd said everything you needed to say when you basically told me to fuck off in the middle of the dance floor."

Rachel wipes a tear from her cheek and looks down at the heels now dangling from her fingers. She hears Puck shift and she knows he's waiting for an answer. When she looks up at him, she takes a deep breath and smiles through her tears. "I lied to you, Noah."

Puck looks a little stunned but pushes the door wide open so that she can come through. Once she's inside and they're standing there, staring at one another, she almost panics. But then he puts his drink down and grabs her wrist and pulls her against him. He places a soft kiss against her forehead and lets his large palm slide down the back of her head to settle on her neck. And when he whispers, "We'll figure it out," against her hair, she's relieved that the haze that's clouded her for nearly two weeks seems to start dissipating. He's right, she knows. He's _absolutely_ right. They will figure it out.


	2. What are you doing here?

Prompt:   
"What are you doing here?"  
"Why don't you tell me?"

* * *

This always happens when they fight. Rachel should know, by now, that fighting isn't even worth it because she always feels this way afterwards. Something about the passion of being angry and frustrated and needing to exert that anger always makes her feel like this. And when she feels like this, he's the only person in the world (because he's her boyfriend and he knows her body as well as he knows his guitar and she loves him, even if he is four IQ points smarter than a coffee maker most of the time) that can alleviate this feeling. But still, he made a disgusting, inflammatory comment about Liza Minelli and Rachel had _no choice_ but to defend Liza's honor. And kick her boyfriend out. Again.

So now she has to go through the entire day feeling this way and she knows it's going to be awful.

…

She leaves her house a full 45 minutes before her normal departure time to ensure that she's not home should he show up to take her to school. She darts into the library and hides out until the warning bell before she zips, head down, into her first period class. When she's sitting in her desk, her phone buzzes. She looks around to make sure Mrs. Immelman isn't paying attention and then pulls it out to read.

_[Sorry for fucking up babe. C u lunch?]_

She doesn't respond. It's going to take more than _that _for her to forgive him.

When class is over, she stands just inside the door to figure out how to best navigate her way to 2nd period. She knows she's being ridiculous but she also knows that if she sees him, the burn will start and then she's in trouble.

When there are only about 90 seconds left before the bell rings again, she zooms from her class and heads down the hall. Just as she's ready to dive into Calculus, she smells him. She nearly groans and her head twists all around but she can't see him anywhere. But his smell is _right there _and that's nearly the same as seeing him.

The burning she was hoping to avoid starts…deep, low in her belly. And as she settles into her desk, she tells herself that if she can make it through the next three or four periods with no encounters, she'll _be fine. _

But when she leaves the class to head to 3rd period, he's leaning against the lockers across the hall from her room. She lets her eyes roam over his crossed arms (do his muscles look even more sinewy and strong today?) and take in that stupid, knowing smirk on his face and she feels that burn inside her start to smolder a little hotter. Ignoring the belabored breathing, she glares at him and darts down the hall. When she hears him laugh behind her, the rich sound of his voice makes the smoldering inside her start to tingle.

By 4th period, she's contemplating skipping school for the rest of the day. She can't stay mad at him when he's _everywhere_, smelling and smirking and posturing and looking very…Puckish. However, reason overtakes frustration and she reminds herself that she has impeccable attendance and she will not risk that just because she has a tendency to be overly aroused by her boyfriend when they're arguing.

Glee rehearsal is, obviously, complete hell. He sits next to her like always and she answers him in short bursts of just a few words when he asks her ridiculous and inane questions just to get her to talk. But then the boys get up to practice a new song and, because Mr. Schue hates her and continues to show her in a myriad of ways, he gives her boyfriend the lead instead of Finn. And when he sings, he looks _right at her_. She tries to look way but the heat of his gaze pulls her back. And he's using his sex eyes on her, too. They're dark and wide and honest and she can tell that he knows _exactly _how she's feeling. So she tries, gives it absolutely 100% of her effort, not to convey how she feels or about the fact that she's burning inside and the only person who can put out that fire is him. Even if he does know, she won't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cave.

As soon as Mr. Schue dismisses them, Rachel bolts for the door but then Kurt, who wants to discuss the costumes for another one of their ridiculous rap numbers, snags her in the hall. By the time he's done ranting about Mr. Schue's unhealthy obsession with gold-plated ghetto bling, the halls are empty and Rachel is so frustrated that she could explode.

When she finally gets home, she bolts through the door of her house and shoots up the stairs. She's got one thought in mind: self-indulgence. She merely needs to assist herself so that she doesn't give in to the urge to jump him, or worse yet, _forgive _him without a proper and well-thought out apology full of sincerity and love. When she pushes open the door to her bedroom, her eyes zero in on the bureau drawer where she keeps the green vibrating toy he bought her for her 17th birthday and fails to notice the figure sprawled out on her bed. Jerking open the drawer, her eyes widen. _It's not there!_

"Lookin' for this?" his voice cuts through the silent room but she can barely hear it over the beating of her heart. He's lying across the bed, one arm tucked behind his head while the other one holds her vibrator in his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Rachel taps her foot on the carpet, the tassels of her brown loafers bouncing heavily against her toes.

"Why don't you tell me?" Puck asks, a satisfied grin highlighting his cheekbones and emphasizing the strength of his jaw in a way that makes Rachel's fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him. "I saw that look you gave me in the Glee when you were pretending _not_ to look at me. I fucking _know _that look. So get that little ass over here, admit that you forgive me, and let's fire up this baby."

"Give me that, Noah, and get out," she says curtly, her eyes traveling over his body before she quickly casts them downward. His shirt has risen up and she can see the trail of hair that runs down his belly and disappears into his pants. Her mouth turns to sawdust as the memory of the many times she's dragged her tongue along that trail, her eyes locked with his as his fingers either caress her face or curl into her hair, and she knows that what it leads to is always incredible.

Puck smirks and sits up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. "Babe…" He reaches his arm out for her and she pushes it away. "Baby," he tries again. "Why are we fighting? I'm sorry I pissed you off but…shit, this is fucked up. You want me, I know. So forgive me and get over here." He spins the vibrator in his hand like he's tossing a beer bottle and Rachel flushes, recalling past encounters of what he can do with it.

Even though she's burning with the need to jump him and dry hump until her eyes roll back into her head, Rachel doesn't budge. Instead, crosses her arm and taps her foot against the carpet. "You can leave, Noah," she says again.

Puck tosses the vibrator on the bed and stands up, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her against him. "I'm sorry," he says, his face just centimeters from hers. The throb low in her belly has now moved between her thighs and it's pounding in time with her heartbeat. And he smells _so _good that she's honestly forgotten why she was mad in the first place.

"What are you sorry for?" she asks, her voice even (she thinks).

Puck sighs. "I'm sorry for saying that Liza Minelli used to be a man and that I think I saw a picture where she's got dick bulge."

Oh yes_, _she remembers,_ that's_ why she's mad. "And _why _are you sorry for saying that?"

Puck lets out a frustrated groan and pulls her against him. "I'm sorry for saying it because now you're mad and fuck, I miss that hot little ass of yours." His voice drops an octave and he dips his head. "Plus, I know you're wet for me right now. You're mad because what I said is apparently not true… at least you say it's not." He looks hopeful but just in case she hasn't taken the bait completely he adds, "and you're a musical genius."

Rachel leans her head back and stares at his forehead because she's afraid that she'll melt and yank her clothes off if she looks him in the eyes. "That's a weak apology."

"Fuck! Okay, I'm sorry I said that shit because now you're mad at me but all you really wanna do is fuck me because fighting gets you so, so hot but you _won't _fuck me until you forgive me so I'm sorry. I am, like, so, so, so fucking sorry." Puck ticks his eyes towards the ceiling and says, "Liza Minelli is a music visionary and she should always be respected." Leveling his eyes to Rachel again, he says, "And I'll spend the weekend watching every one of those goddamn musicals of yours…as long as we're naked while they're on."

Rachel can feel the pounding of her heart between her thighs and as far as his apologies go (and she's heard a lot of them), this one isn't too bad. It's almost sincere. And seriously, the tension in her body is about to make her snap. So she smiles and bobs her head and Puck practically pounces on her, his arms around her and his lips on hers quickly. "I forgive you," she confesses against his mouth.

Puck doesn't say a word. Instead, he slips his hand under her skirt and presses his fingers against the damp fabric of her panties. Right before her brain whirs to a temporary stop, she's momentarily annoyed by the fact that he knows her so well. But then again, that's the part she loves most about him, too.


	3. Waiting for the tears

Prompt:

Okay, this is a photo prompt so I can't really show you…but it involves a man and a woman in a bubble-filled bathtub with their arms wrapped around one another.

* * *

He keeps waiting for the tears. He's been waiting for them since they were sitting in the ER two days ago and the doctor was using phrases like "spontaneous abortion" and "sometimes the body rejects a pregnancy" and "it couldn't be helped" while his eyes darted back and forth between Puck and Rachel.

He expects the tears once she's back at home in bed because she's cried over much, much less. She sobs over songs and books and movies. He's never seen a woman so emotionally attached to fictional characters (even animated ones) but by now, he's used to it. His girl cries over everything. So when they get back home and she walks past the tiny room that used to be their "music room" but had been cleaned out and prepped to be painted for a nursery, he expects the tears. Instead, she curls up into a ball, turns on the TV, and tells him that she wants to sleep. He just stares at her dumbly for a few heartbeats before kissing her forehead and then silently closes the bedroom door. While she's sleeping, he grabs the phone and breaks the news to his mom and her dads.

Later that night, he catches her watching one of those shows on TLC about parents and their new baby and he knows that this is it. This is when the waterworks are going to start. So he doesn't know what to think when she just stares sadly at the TV and then comments, "Their nursery is beautiful."

Two days later, he is still waiting for her to break down. He has to go back to work while Rachel stays home and he hates it. He worries about her all day but every time he calls her, she assures him that she's fine. He's not sure how she's fine when he's definitely not fine. He's absolutely torn up that she lost the baby. They'd only known she was pregnant for a few weeks and after the initial shock wore off, they were both ecstatic. After three years of marriage, he was ready to be someone's dad (for keeps this time).

Puck is really surprised when he gets home from work and Rachel isn't even there. The house is spotless so he knows she spent a lot of time cleaning, which she tends to do when she's upset. But when she arrives just a few minutes after him, she has shopping bags hanging off her arms and a smile on her face. She kisses him and says, "Santana insisted that shopping therapy would do the trick and I think she was right. I got the most incredible pair of shoes, Noah. You'll love them! Oh, and I bought you a new plaid shirt." She gives him a brilliant smile and then flits off to the bedroom to hang up her purchases. All he can do is stared at her, confused, as she retreats.

That night, Puck lies in bed and worries. He hasn't seen her shed a single tear and he remembers vividly how much she cried when she told him she was pregnant. She wept happy tears for nearly an hour and couldn't stop talking about how genetically gifted their child was bound to be. Why is she not more upset? His own heart is aching for the baby, for his wife, and even for himself. He just can't figure out how she's staying so composed and it makes for a sleepless night.

When he wakes up and heads to work, he's in a shitty mood. He's relieved that he hadn't told anybody at work about the baby because he doesn't have to endure those sad looks from everybody. And it's none of their fucking business anyway. But after he nearly punches one of the draftsmen for asking him an innocuous question about the plans for a remodel, Puck decides to get the hell outta the office. After buying a hotdog from a food cart (because they're good and he doesn't care if they're covered in rat germs or whatever people like to freak out about when it comes to the sanitation habits of New York City street vendors), he walks around Central Park. There's something about the crunch of leaves beneath his feet coupled with the sounds of the traffic on 5th Avenue that is relaxing to him. He thinks about Rachel and how, even though they've been together since they were 18, he loves her now more than ever. And he lets himself imagine, for just a brief second, how amazing it would have been to see Rachel all big and round with his kid. His chest tightens when he sits down on a bench because it fuckin' sucks to have to go through this.

As the chilly November breeze blows across his face, he lets himself think about what it would have been like. Their kid would have been so perfect. He knows that Rachel would've pushed the kid to excel early and Puck would have to snag her around the waist, soothe her when she squawked and then dial her back, convincing her to un-enroll their two-year-old from French lessons or some other crazy shit that she deemed "necessary for proper development." But they'd make it work because they're fucking awesome together. He smiles at the thought of Rachel attempting to send their baby off to singing lessons before the kid could even talk. And then, after staring out at the skyscrapers until he's not really thinking about anything at all, he heads home.

When he lets himself inside their tiny apartment, Rachel is nowhere to be found. He thinks she's out again until he hears the slight splash of water coming from the closed bathroom door. He slowly presses it open and sees her sitting in the tub. She has her knees pulled up against her chest and her arms are wrapped around her legs. She's surrounded by bubbles and there are tears streaming down her face as she stares out into the bathroom, her eyes unseeing.

His heart thumps loudly and he timidly says, "Babe?"

She jumps slightly, startled, and then meets his eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry I lost the baby, Noah. I know how excited you were."

"Rach," he begins. His voice is pained but he doesn't care. "Rachel, baby, it's okay. It's not your fault." He hates to see her cry but at the same time, he's relieved.

Rachel shakes her head and looks away as more tears slide down her cheeks. Puck watches her for a moment and then slips his shoes off. Wordlessly, he undresses quickly and walks over to the old, claw-footed tub. She scoots up so that he can slide in behind her and as soon as the warm, soapy water envelops him, he pulls her toward him. But instead of settling against his chest, she turns around and climbs into his lap, her hands clutching the back of his neck. His arms slide around her waist and when she drops her cheek against the top of his head, she whispers, "I know it wasn't planned but I really wanted that baby, Noah. I wanted so much to meet the amazing person that we created together."

He cinches his arms tighter around her, his lips brushing against her wet skin, and promises, "We'll try again, baby. You know we will. We're Puckermans, babe. We'll try every fuckin' day until it happens again. We got this. You know how good we are at trying."

Rachel lets out a little half-sob, half-laugh and tightens her grip on him. She whispers that she loves him and when he tells her that he loves her, too, his voice is thick with emotion. He doesn't have the power to bring back the baby or take away her pain but the one thing he can do is hold her. He's got strong arms and all the time in the world. And no, hugging each other in the middle of a soapy bath won't mend their broken hearts but it's a start.


	4. The outgoing message

Prompt:

Recording a joint outgoing voicemail message.

* * *

"Hey. You've reached Puck and Rachel. We're not around. Leave a message." Puck smiles at Rachel as she listens to the message but his smile fades the deeper her scowl gets.

"Noah, that's horrible. We need to do better. This is how people contact us! They need to understand that they've reached the right number," Rachel explains as she deletes the message so that they can start over.

"No, babe…if anyone needs us, they'll call our cell phones. Our home phone has two purposes: ordering pizza and getting pissed at telemarketers."

Rachel drops her hand to her hip and glares at him and he can tell that he is clearly an idiot. He raises his hands in protest. "Fine, go ahead. You do better!"

Smiling, Rachel hits record. "Hello! You've reached the home of Noah and Rachel Puckerman. We are presently unavailable because our schedules keep us busy at odd hours, or we might be at home but are taking this quiet time to rest amply due to our aforementioned busy schedules. But if you would kindly leave us a well thought out message including a return phone number, we'll—" The recording beeps, cutting Rachel off mid-sentence. She glares at the stupid machine, a look of murder in her eyes when she hears Puck snicker.

"Okay, we're starting over. This time, I'll say my name and you'll say yours." She points to the machine as if to order him to start recording.

"Fuck, no," Puck protests. "We're not going to be one of those pathetic couples who talks over each other on the machine and then acts all stupid. Record the damn message over or let me do it. The game is starting soon…I don't need this shit!"

"Fine! You record another one. We'll see if you do better this time!" Rachel taps her foot on the floor and Puck watches the flush rising in her cheeks. She's getting pissed and he grins.

He hits record and says into the speaker. "Yo. It's the Puckermans. We ain't fuckin' home. Leave a message or fuck off, we don't really care."

"Noah!" she screeches, diving for the machine. "You're a disgusting pig. I cannot believe you recorded such a vile greeting." She hits the erase button and then shoots him a look. "I'll do this myself!"

Rachel takes a breath, hitting the record message again. "Hello there! You've reached the home of Rachel and Noah Puckerman. If you are calling for Rachel, she is probably busy becoming famous and is far too engaged to answer something as simple as a telephone. If you're calling for Noah, he probably won't get his ass off the couch to answer the damn phone because it might interrupt his complicated ball-scratching schedule. Leave a message."

She hits stop and smiles at a gawking Puck. "D'you seriously just record that shit?"

Without answering, she turns on her heel and flounces from the room. Puck watched her go and then stares down at the machine like he's trying to blow it up with his eyes before following after her. When he finds her, she's sitting cross-legged on the bed, re-arranging the pillows around her in a violent manner.

"That was shitty," he barks.

"You're being an asshole," she yells back. Her chest is heaving and Puck's eyes are drawn to the fact that she's not wearing a bra underneath that tank top of hers and he can tell that her nipples are hard. Ignoring her protests, he pushes her down on the bed and shoves the shirt over her head, latching his lips to her so she can't bitch. In the other room, he can hear the phone ring and then the machine picks up.

BEEP.

"Um… hi. It's…uh…Finn. Gimme a call… Uh… I think… Yeah…"


	5. Broken bed

Prompt:

Broken bed

* * *

"Welcome to Mr. Mario's Furniture Funhouse…what can I help you with today?" The fat, sweaty man stares at the young couple, curious at why they both look so nervous.

"Uhh… Do you repair broken bed frames?" Puck asks, ignoring the fact that his girlfriend is staring at the ground and refuses to look up.

"Broken bed frame?" the portly man looks confused. "How did you break a bed frame? Those are usually made of sturdy metals. We've only heard of a few broken ones... Well, we've actually had a rash of them here recently but anyway..." He stares up at the young man, waiting for him to speak.

Rachel steps up toward the man. "I…I believe ours was faulty. We would simply like to either get ours repaired or perhaps replace it."

The man rubs the stubble on the first of his four chins and stares at the small girl. "It might be under warranty. Did it bend or somehow become misshapen?"

Puck snickers quietly and ignores Rachel when she elbows him. "It…it snapped in two separate places, actually," she admits.

The man blanches. "It snapped? That's serious! Did it snap in one of the joints or was it in the middle of the metal expanse?"

"Does that matter, dude? The junk broke!" Puck demands, beginning to get irritated. He just wants a fucking replacement for the damn thing…_shit_.

"Well, we might be able to replace it if it's a warranty issue. What were you doing when it broke? Were you even on it at the time or were you sleeping?"

Rachel looks up at her boyfriend and sees him biting his lip, a stupid grin on his face. "We were… we were engaging in typical bedroom behavior and it…it collapsed," she offers.

"I'd say that if it just collapsed while you were asleep, we can probably replace it through our warranty service. We'll just have to have you fill out a few forms and then we can re—"

Puck jams his hand through his hair and groans. "Jesus, man… Okay, here's the deal. So, like, we're fuckin', okay? And I have her leg over my shoulder and I'm really fucking going at it…you know, like really gettin' it in there good 'cause I haven't seen her all week and needed to make up for it. Anyway, I'm really pushin' it in there hard 'cause she likes it like that and all of the sudden, the fucking thing just snaps and we went flyin' towards the floor. Can you fix that?" Puck glances over at Rachel and notices that she's gone. Looking around, he sees the back of her head, hair flying behind her, as she runs toward the door.

When he looks back at fat Mario, the man is grinning. "I think that's covered under the warranty, sir. Follow me and we'll get you a new one."

Ten minutes later, Puck drops the pieces for the new frame in the bed of his truck and then climbs in. Rachel has her hands covering her face and she's shaking her head. "Why did you tell him that, Noah? That's the most mortifying experience of my entire life!"

Puck grips the steering wheel and smiles at her. "You always preach about how honesty is the best policy, right?"

Rachel nods.

"Well, I was honest… told him that I fucked you so good that the bed broke…and now we have a new one!"

"Will this one break, too?" she asks. "Because I don't want to come back here yet again."

Puck shakes his head. "Nah… I paid $50 extra and upgraded to the Titanium one. Three times here for new bed frames is enough."

"I think we have some sort of problem…" Rachel says, her face red as she recalls the previous two broken bed frames.

"Nope…we're just that good. Shit's probably made in China anyway."


	6. Jacob the Stalker

Prompt:

Stalker/Jacob

* * *

Thanks to his excellent vantage point from the elm tree limb that's fourth from the ground, Jacob can see _everything_. Rachel's just inside her room, just a few feet away, dancing in circles as she sings loudly to the music blaring from her computer. And even though the window is closed, he can hear her perfectly (thanks to the Loud N Clear he purchased for $19.95 from that late night infomercial). She stops dancing and grabs her cell phone, quickly typing out a text, before she puts it down and dances across the room again. She disappears into the closet and Jacob squeaks with the hope that she's going to come back out naked and he's finally going to get to see if she's shaven or clean down _there_. When she finally reappears, he's hard because, although she's not naked, she's now in a tank top and she's without a bra. And he can see her nipples. _Her nipples_! He sucks in deep breaths and anchors his hand against the trunk of the tree. He doesn't want to fall out now just because his oxygen supply is depleted – things are just getting good.

Rachel is now lying on her bed, her head tipped over the side so that her hair touches the floor, while she reads the book she's holding in the air. He can see her breasts clearly and he's dying to unzip his pants. He's got 4.27 inches of erect penis to give her if she'd only let him. He massages himself through his shorts for just a second and then he reaches into his pocket to grab his camera because this pose – this pose of his beautiful Rachel – belongs in his Wishbook back at home. He gets the camera out and he's just about to take a picture when, out of nowhere, a big green walnut flies through the air and knocks the camera out of his hand. Jacob watches it fall nearly 20 feet and land on the ground before he looks around, trying to figure out where a stray walnut would have even come from. Seeing nothing, he digs out his iPhone because it has a camera, too. By this time, Rachel has now flipped over on her stomach and her legs are in the air behind her as she types out another text message. Her beautiful ass is outlined through her thin shorts and he just wants to rub up against it. He's getting ready to click the "take" button on the camera when his phone beeps with a message. And it's from Rachel!

He lets out a groan of anticipation because maybe she knows he's out there and maybe she wants to invite him inside her house, up to her bedroom, and inside her gorgeous lovebox.

[_Look down_] the message says. He stares at it quizzically and then up at her. She's typing again and immediately, his phone beeps. [_No really, look down.]_

Jacob drops his eyes to the ground and now, where his camera used to lay, there are five guys with paintball guns pointed right at him.

"Ready?" Puck calls out to the others. Finn, Mike, Matt, and Artie all nod and Puck yells "Aim….FIRE!"

Jacob shrieks with fear as he's pelted with painful, stinging paintballs. His iPhone falls to the ground and accidentally gets repeatedly mashed into the dirt by Puck's heavy boots.

Wiggling down the tree, Jacob falls to the ground in surrender.

"Cease fire!" Puck yells once the nerd is flat on the ground.

The paintballs finally stop and Jacob looks up and is greeted by five sets of feet closing in on him.

Finn jerks him to his feet and asks, "Puck? Do we want to throw him in the boiling oil now or later?"

Jacob shrieks and starts yammering. "I—I didn't do anything…I was bird watching… I didn't even realize where I was. There are such pretty birds around here!"

"Oh yeah?" Puck seethes. "Name one!"

"Uh…I think…it's…"

The crowd suddenly parts so none other than the object of his desire can step forward. He's so relieved…Rachel will save him. She will realize that he only does things out of love and will save him. Instead, she puts her hand on her hip, glares at him, and then kicks him the balls. When he falls to the ground, she smiles at Finn and the guys before wrapping her arms around Puck's neck and kissing him soundly.

"Thanks, guys," she said. "Hopefully, I won't need to call you again."

Puck smacks her on the ass, nods at the guys, and follows his girlfriend in the house so that he can be repaid for his chivalrous activities.

Jacob watches them leave and is slightly saddened that he didn't get any good pictures out of the adventure, plus his phone was ruined. BUT there's a bright spot in all of this. Rachel's bare foot made contact with his balls.

She totally wants him…


	7. Puck's advice

Prompt:

Rachel goes on a date with one of the Glee guys. Puck is jealous and follows them/offers bad advice to the guy in question to prove he'd be the better date.

* * *

"Dude…why the fuck are you taking Rachel Berry on a date tonight?" Puck slams his locker shut and shoots Matt a shitty glare.

"Because she's hot…and in case you haven't noticed, she looks awesome in short skirts when she leaves those stupid knee socks at home," Matt answers. "Plus, I'm into her."

Puck is incredulous. In to Berry? _Okaaaaaay_…

"Puck, you dated her for, like, five minutes so I guess you kind of know her. Got any advice for me?"

The guys walk down the hall toward the lunchroom and Puck thinks hard about what "advice" he can offer to Matt. He can either be honest or he can "nudge" Matt in the wrong direction slightly.

What? It's not like he gives a fuck about Rachel Berry because he totally doesn't. He just doesn't want to see Matt wasting his time with her when he can be dating one of those fine ass Cheerios that actually puts out. Rachel just needs to be off limits…because she's so crazy and shit. He just doesn't want his bro to suffer is all.

"Well," Puck says. "She fuckin' loves lilies so get her a bouquet of those. Like, a huge bouquet the size of her head. And take her to that new steakhouse to eat."

Matt grabs Puck's arm and stops him. "I thought she was vegan?"

Puck smirks and shakes his head. "Shit, no! She just did that for that Jesse kid. She loves meat. Like, she can't get enough meat. Oh…and she likes it when you order for her so if you take her there, order her a big, juicy rare steak. With extra blood."

Matt cocks his head and Puck thinks he may have gone too far. But then Matt smiles and says, "Thanks, man! I owe ya!"

Puck smirks as Matt walks off. _Idiot_.

…

Saturday morning, Puck is busy watching cartoons with his sister when there's a knock on his door. He jogs over and pulls it open and is shocked when a Styrofoam carton is shoved into his face.

"A rare steak, Noah? Really?" Rachel barks. Puck knows it's Rachel because it's her voice but her face… the girl staring back at him is all puffy, like if Rachel had sex with a marshmallow and they had a baby, it would look like this…this thing that is presently yelling at him. Her lips are all swollen, too, and she looks like total shit. But he can see that her eyes are glinting (through all the puffy skin around them that makes them look like little slits) and he knows she'll probably punch him if he points it out.

"And lilies? You know I'm deathly allergic to them! I quickly got rid of the flowers and hoped for no allergic reaction but just as we arrived at the restaurant and Matthew was ordering me a rare steak with extra blood, I swelled up. And why in the world would you tell him to order me that, let alone order for me at all? I threw up as soon as they brought that…that thing to the table and then we spent the rest of our date in the emergency room because my throat swelled closed."

Puck feels kind of guilty. Kind of. She obviously had a really shitty date with Matt. So shitty that she probably won't go out with him again. He totally needs to feel guilty about all of this….but the Styrofoam container in his hand smells like steak.

"So the date went well, I take it?" Puck asks, a small smile curling his lips.

Rachel stomps on his foot and crosses her arms. "I'll be less swollen by tonight, I promise. You're picking me up at 8:30 and we're going to the new Italian restaurant downtown."

Puck stares at her. She's ordering him to go out with her?

"And next time, Noah, rather than trying to sabotage my date with another young man, why don't you just ask me out yourself?"

Puck shrugs. Maybe he shoulda thought of that…


	8. Sext gone wrong

Prompt:

Rachel accidentally receives a sext meant for Santana.

_

* * *

[You know what would b hot right now? My head between ur thighs. Meet me bleachers.]_

Rachel nearly stumbles when she reads the message on the screen of her small, bejeweled phone. And when she sees that the text is from Noah Puckerman, she goes from flushed to angry to flushed to pissed to aroused to flushed to furious in the span of about three and a half seconds.

She slams her locker closed and barrels down the hallway, the heels of her flats clicking against the polished tile floor. She turns the corner and spies Puck standing by his locker, chatting with Matt and Mike. Puck sees her coming and rolls his eyes.

"Psychopath, twelve o'clock," he tells the guys, who turn to see Rachel storming toward them. Her little pink skirt is flying up and her fists are balled. She's a woman on a mission.

"Oh shit, I'm outta here. She probably heard what I said about that shitty Judy Garland movie and she's gonna exact revenge. I'm gone!" Mike slips away from the other two guys, booking it down the hall and into the men's room (for extra protection since he doesn't think Rachel's crazy enough to bust down the door.)

"Noah Puckerman," Rachel spits out, "what is the meaning of this?" She holds up her cell phone so it's flush with his nose and he has to cross his eyes just to read the text. Once he does, he starts laughing.

Really fucking hard.

"Oh, shit, Rachel, that wasn't supposed to go to you," Puck tells her, pushing the phone away from his face to glare at the diminutive brunette now burning a hole in his forehead with her eyes.

"It wasn't?" she gets a hurt look on her face for only a brief second before she pushes it away again.

Puck snickers. "It was supposed to go to Santana…I guess I accidentally picked you outta the address book."

Rachel puts her hand on her hip and juts it out sharply for added effect of her critically serious annoyance. "How is that humanly possible, Noah? Our names are nowhere near each other in the alphabet."

Puck smirks and pulls out his phone. "Maybe not your real names… But the Puckster, you know, has his own way of approaching things." He hands his phone to Rachel. "See," he says, pointing, "there _you_ are and there _she_ is."

Rachel looks at the names in his address book and her head bounces up, her eyes huge and raging. "Noah? 'Big Bitch' and 'Big Mouth'? That's degrading! And horrible! And inaccurate, on my part anyway!"

Puck laughs at his own ingenuity, grabbing his stomach and leaning against the lockers. "It's also right. Santana is a huge, huge fucking bitch. You have a huge, huge fucking mouth. I go with what I know, babe."

"That's horrible!" Rachel shrieks.

"It works," Puck says simply, jerking his phone back from Rachel's hands before she can throw it down the hall.

"You will correct our names in your address book this instant, Noah Puckerman, or you will rue the day your mother birthed you." Rachel's voice is full of demand and anger. Her cheeks are all flushed and Puck thinks she looks hot when she's mad.

"Fine…fine," Puck agrees. He takes his phone in his hands and types for a second and then hands it back to her. She reads it and her eyes grow wide, a smile crossing her face.

"That's much better, Noah, thank you." She hands the phone back to Puck and saunters away and Puck watches appreciatively the way her small hips swing as she retreats.

Flipping open his phone again, he scrolls past "Big Bitch" and down to "Big Star."

He types out a message that he knows she'll know was meant for her.

_[You know what would b hot right now? My head under that tiny pink skirt of yours. Meet me bleachers.]_

Five seconds after he sends it, he hears a shriek down the hall and recognizes as having come from the lungs of Big Mouth…err… Big Star. He laughs again, because he's so fucking funny today, and then heads out to the bleachers, just in case…


	9. drunk Puck

Prompt:

sad, pouty, handsy, drunk!puck

* * *

He tells himself that he's just gonna have some Jack and Coke. No straight Jack tonight because he wants to be able to actually drive his truck home and not have to sleep on Mike's ratty old couch downstairs again. And for the first hour and a half, he does fine. He tosses back a couple of drinks, flirts with some new Cheerio that just transferred to McKinley from Carmel (her name is Savannah. She spelled it for him because she heard that he has a tendency to not remember names. She's right.)

But then Finn comes in and he's lookin' all smug. He high-fives Matt, fist-bumps with Karofsky, and then settles against the kitchen counter to get himself a beer from the keg.

Puck can't really hear much of what he's saying but every other word sounds like Rachel.

Fucking Rachel.

Goddamn Rachel.

Finn's Rachel.

Puck sneers at Finn from across the room and even though Finn doesn't even see it, it makes him feel better. His eyes dart around 'til he sees an unoccupied half-full bottle of Jack sitting on the coffee table. He snags it quickly and sucks down a huge gulp. It burns and aches and just feels _good_. He does it again and again until the conversations all start to run together and that name becomes blurred and sounds just like every other goddamn word floating around the room.

…

He's standing in front of her house two hours later. The bottle is almost completely empty and he's still drunk off his ass. Mike lives five blocks over and somehow - Puck's not even sure how – he ends up stumbling over to his present position: teetering on the street corner outside Rachel Berry's house.

Staring up at the second floor, he knows which bedroom is hers. He looks around to find some pebbles or something to chuck at her window but all he sees are big ass rocks that would shatter the glass. So instead, he calls her. Her phone rings and rings and right before it goes to voicemail, she answers. Her voice is sleepy and groggy and throaty and it makes him hard, which pisses him off.

"I'm outside. Come out," he slurs into the phone.

"Noah?" she asks, clearly confused.

"Yeah… I'm standing outside your house. Come out."

"Why? It's very later and you should be sleeping, although I think you sound drunk. Are you drunk? I can't be seen with a—"

"Fuck, Rachel, just come the fuck outside, okay?" he finally barks. Before she can protest again, he hangs up and clumsily shoves the phone back into his pocket.

He stumbles toward the house and collapses on the top step to wait for her. Seconds later, the door opens and closes and he feels her sit down next to him. He turns his head slowly in the dark and looks at her. She's got her hair piled up on her head and she's in a little nightgown that barely comes to the top of her thighs and he can tell she's not wearing a bra. It's fucking torture.

"What are you doing here, Noah?"

Puck ignores her question and drops his hand onto her bare knee, squeezing and kneading the flesh below his hand. She shoves his hand away and stares at him. "I repeat, what are you doing here?"

"Why's it always gotta be Finn?" he asks. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he takes the last swig from the bottle and tosses the empty down into her flowerbeds. She glowers at him and says, "I don't know what you mean."

Puck leans back on his hands and stares out into her dark yard. "Yeah, yeah you do… S'always fuckin' Finn, the King of McKinley… What makes him so goddamn good and the rest of us so… so fuckin' useless?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about and I think you should leave," Rachel orders. He can tell that she's totally pissed off and if he wasn't so drunk, he wouldn't blame her. But fuck it, he's pissed off, too. He spends most of his goddamn time wanting things he can't have and it seems like everything thinks is worth a damn and is worth wanting gets "property of Finn Hudson" stamped on it before he gets a chance to even touch it. It fucking sucks and he wants answers.

When Rachel stands up to go back inside, Puck traps her tiny ankle between his fingers. She freezes where she stands but then takes a deep breath when his hand travels up her calf toward her knee. Her skin is so fucking soft and warm that he starts to get hard(er). His hand finally stops on the back of her thigh and he expects her to kick him in the nuts but she stays as still as a statue.

"Why's it always fuckin' Finn, Rachel? Just answer me that question and I'll leave you the fuck alone."

Rachel turns and faces him. He drops his hand from her thigh but cups it over her little foot, stroking it softly as he waits. In the moonlight, he can see her breathing and it looks like she's having trouble.

"Because he's safe," she finally says.

Puck tilts his head up toward her. "Safe?"

Rachel nods. "Yes. Because he's predictable and safe and he's not wild or rebellious and… I don't have to worry when it comes to who he might be with or what he's doing."

Puck mills her words over because even in his drunk state, he can tell that she's basically saying that Finn's the opposite of him. And that's bullshit because he can be safe and predictable. He can. He just hasn't had to be yet.

"S'you're into boring, Rach?"

Rachel sits down next to him again but stays about a foot away. He reaches out and tugs her against him, his fingers curling into the base of her head as he massages her scalp. She shudders so hard that he feels it and it makes his dick throb in his pants.

"Not boring, Noah. Secure. Reliable. And I never have to question if he loves me nor not."

He thinks she sounds all dreamy about Fucking Finn and it makes him wish he could find that bottle again so he could break it on the sidewalk. He needs to get the fuck away from her before he says anything else because he doesn't need any more lectures on why Finn is so perfect and he's just a useless dipshit. He abruptly jerks his hand from her hair and pushes himself up off the stoop before stomping down the steps and out into her yard.

"Where are you going?" she calls after him.

"Who the fuck knows," he answers back. "Not like it matters to you anyway."

He clomps out of her yard and when he's about four houses down, he plops down onto the curb. Shaking his head, he stares out into the empty street. Fucking Finn.

Always fucking perfect Finn…


	10. Puck makes Rachel wait

Prompt:

Puck makes Rachel wait for sex.

* * *

The first time he rolls off her and rebuttons his fly, Puck tells Rachel that he just remembered that he's 20 minutes late picking up his sister. She kisses him hard and sends him on his way because she trusts him and knows that he has no reason to lie.

But once he gets in his truck and drives around the block, he pulls over and punches the steering wheel. His girl wants it. She wants him to do nasty, dirty shit to her. When she's underneath him and she's pushing her hips up against him and she's making that little throaty noise and running her hands over the waistband of his jeans, he knows what she wants. And they've been dating for four months and he can tell that she's been ready for it for the last month and, fuck, he wants to give it to her so bad.

But then he can't. It doesn't feel… right.

Yeah, that's absolutely fuckin' crazy coming from him but hear him out, okay? See, Rachel's different. She's not Santana and she's sure as fuck not Quinn. And she's not Mrs. Moyers or Mrs. Barnum or Mrs. Alexander, either. She's Rachel. She's in a league of her fucking own. And honestly? She's way the hell outta his league and he knows it. And he keeps waiting for her to figure it out, too, and dump his ass because seriously, that girl is going places. She doesn't need some Lima loser like him holding her back. It's just a matter of time before she realizes that she was happier with Finn, anyway. So whenever she's fucking begging for it (and it seems like it's every damn day lately), he's gotta come up with a way to get out of it. It kills him. He's not sure if someone can die from blue balls but if they can, it'll be him. But he needs to make absolutely sure that she's really gonna stick around before he gives it up.

Yeah, shit's crazy. He knows. He fucking knows.

…

On a Saturday night, Rachel invites him over and when he gets there, he finds a note on the front door. "Dad and Daddy aren't home. Come on up."

He pushes the door open and he's nervous as shit because he's seen about ten pornos that start out _just_ fucking like this. When he gets to the top of the stairs, he knows that his girl is probably either going to be one of two ways: 1) butt-ass naked, or 2) in some form of lace.

When he opens her bedroom door, he discovers that number two was correct. She's lying on her bed, one leg propped up, and her hands are fidgeting with the covers. Her tits (her perfect, beautiful, gorgeous, perky tits) are covered in thin scraps of silver lace that he just wants to tear apart with his teeth. And she's wearing a tiny little thong and he can see, he can fucking see the Promised Land. So what does he do? He freezes. He's unable to move.

He can't fucking move.

Rachel stares at him and then climbs off the bed and walks over to him. He drops his eyes to the way the cups are hugging her tits and then he can see her nipples through the lace and he swears he may come. Right fucking there. Right in his goddamn boxers.

Rachel puts her hands out and wraps them around his waist. She tilts her head up at him and smiles shyly through her lashes. "Do you like my outfit?"

"Yes. No. Fuck, I don't know, Rachel!" Puck unhooks her arms and stalks over toward the bed. He can smell the lotion that she uses and it just makes him harder.

Rachel now looks worried and she's biting her lip and staring at him, her eyes sad. "Don't you want me?"

Puck shoves his hand through his hair and lets out a laugh. "Fuck yes, I want you, baby… I just… I think we should wait. It's just… it's better if we wait. I want the first time to just be… good." He wants to add, "and I want to make sure you're not going to dump my ass and run back to Finn" but he doesn't. He can tell she's pissed enough as it is.

Rachel says she understands but he's not sure he believes her. And then she slips on her robe, cinches it tightly around her waist, and slams the bathroom door. When she doesn't come out after 45 minutes and ignores his knocking, he finally leaves. His life sucks and it's his own damn fault (as usual.)

...

She swears that everything is fine. By Monday she's cooled off and she says she understands that he wants it to be special and that she actually thinks it's sweet. But Monday after school, she straddles him on his bed and pulls her shirt over her head. He pushes her off and says something completely pussified about her not respecting his wishes. She throws her shirt back on and grumbles something unintelligible before slamming out the door and down the steps. He falls back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. He's not sure when he became such a fucking chick but he doesn't like it.

…

The next day, he's decided that, fuck it, he's gonna bang his girlfriend. She's not gonna leave him. She's been with him for four months. If she was gonna step, she woulda by now.

But then he sees her laughing with Finn in the hallway and she tucks a strand behind her ear in that shy, cute little way that she does and he feels like he's gonna fucking explode.

Yup, he's gonna fucking lose her to Finn. He knew it.

That night, she doesn't even try to put the moves on him while they're doing homework together. And it sucks.

…

Thursday, he asks her to help him with his Spanish homework after school and she declines. She tells him that she's promised Finn that she'll help him with a Glee assignment. He acts all cool but when he gets to his truck, he's sure he's gonna have a fuckin' panic attack. He's been trying to do the right thing all this time. He's been trying to make sure everything was perfect and that she really wanted to be with him before they did the nasty… and then he waited too long and he's pretty sure that by Friday night, she's gonna be Finn's girlfriend again and not his.

His life sucks.

…

Later that night, he's in his living room watching TV when the doorbell rings. His sister and his mom are doing some lame shit at the JCC so he's home alone. He yanks the door open and Rachel is standing there and rage is in her eyes. She storms past him and into the living room.

"Finn Husdon!" she yells.

And here it comes. Puck's expected this. This is the part where all his fears come to fruition and she dumps his ass. He crosses his arms and stares at her. "Yeah?"

"Finn! You would not believe him!" She's pacing across the living room and he's trying not to watch the way her calf muscles move because he knows he shouldn't be turned on when he's about to be tossed aside.

"What did Golden Boy do? You guys getting married?"

Rachel skids to a stop and glares at him. "Do you know that idiot had the nerve to ask me if you and I were happy? And when I told him that yes, we were, he told me that if I ever decided that you weren't what I needed, to give him a call. Can you believe that?"

Puck wants to grab his keys and go bust Finn in his stupid face for hitting on his girl but then he stops because there's a reason Rachel's here and not with Finn right now. "So did you tell him off?"

"Not exactly," Rachel confides.

_Great_. So she's into Finn's shit. Of-fucking-course.

"I told him to go to hell and that if he even looked at me, I'd smack him until he was cross-eyed." Rachel starts pacing again. "The nerve of him! To think I'd want to be with him again? After all we went through? And I'm with you now! And I love you, even if you won't sleep with me."

Two seconds later, he's got her face trapped in his hands and he's already started the process of sucking her lips off.

Twenty minutes later, he's fucking her over the arm of the couch. And when she comes around him and it's the tightest, wettest thing he's ever felt and his eyes roll back in his head and he almost falls over on top of her? He realizes that the waiting and the worry and the blue balls were all worth it.


	11. The music video

Prompt:

Puck records his first music video and maybe forgets to tell Rachel there's a kissing scene between him and some girl.

* * *

He hates when she's mad. And now he's standing in their living room and she's waving around her Screen Actors Guild award, pointing the green dude's head at him as she yells, and he's really tired and just wants to fucking go to bed. It was a long night and a huge night and he needs sleep.

But apparently, first and foremost, he needs to make his girlfriend happy.

"I can't believe you, Noah! You film this entire video and tell me all about it but just happen to omit the part about the fact that you're sucking the lipstick off some girl's face for nearly half the song?" Rachel's really animated now and the green-headed guy is practically being shoved in his face. Ever since she won that damn thing three months ago, she keeps finding reasons to pick it up. And now he knows that it is apparently her weapon of choice.

"Rach, it wasn't for half the video. The kissing scene lasts, like, three seconds tops!"

"But you should have warned me!" she shrieks. "I should have known there would be kissing! I felt like an idiot sitting there watching you up on that big screen practically have sex with some…some big headed, anorexic harlot!"

Puck can't help but roll his eyes. "Babe, you knew what the song was about! I fucking wrote that song for you! You knew that it was all emotional and shit and yeah, the director wanted the kiss at the end and—" Puck runs his fingers through his hair because his next statement could potentially get him beamed with the SAG but he really kinda feels like he needs to defend his video. "And really, it works. It's a fucking awesome video, Rach!"

He watches her face change as she slips from furious to...something else. And then she asks, "But why couldn't you have cast me? You needed an actress, right? The last time I checked, I was an actress."

And shit, because yeah, they did need an actress and his girlfriend of seven years is an actress but it never occurred to him to use her in the video. Why would it? She does her thing and he does his. The thought of combining them never really occurred to him.

Rachel sees him thinking and her brow furrows slightly. "Noah?" Her voice has gone soft and now he knows that she's shifted from angry to hurt. Angry Rachel is a force. Hurt Rachel, he can deal with.

He steps up to her and gently removes the award/weapon from her hands before he slides his hands around her back and down to her waist. Leaning down, he kisses her on the nose and says, "Baby, we needed a cheap actress. This is just a music video. And it's my first video so d'ya think I had an actual budget for it? And was I allowed to make suggestions? Hell no."

She's still looking frustrated and sad and so he says, "Besides, we needed an actress. Just a cheap, easy actress to stand there and kiss me. And you, baby? You're a fuckin' star."

And there it is. That huge smile of hers that tells him that everything's going to be okay. She bobs her head and says, "You know, you're right. And had I appeared in your video, it would have taken away from the fact that it's about you. This is your music video and your first single and my appearance would have just drawn attention away from you and I would hate that."

Puck nods because he's not about say any-fucking-thing that will get him back in the doghouse. So he grins at his girl and dips his head to kiss her. She pushes up on her toes and they meet in the middle. She goes languid in his arms and he knows that they're about four minutes away from hitting the sheets.

When Rachel pulls back, she's got a quizzical look on her face. "Noah? Can you just tell me one thing?"

"Anything, babe."

"Was she a good kisser?"

Actually, yeah, she was a fuckin' awesome kisser. And they had to do that shit nine times to get the shot like the director wanted it. Her lips were soft and she even slipped him some tongue during the last few takes. But is he gonna tell his girl that? Oh, hell no. Shaking his head, he says, "Naw, baby, she was terrible." He bends his head and presses a gentle kiss against her cheek. "And she had garlic breath."

Rachel giggles against him and he starts backing them toward the bedroom. Once they're by the door, he kisses her deeply and slides his fingers along the skin at her hip. "Oh, and babe?" he adds, "I think she had a little bit of a mustache, too. You're just so much fucking hotter."

She lets out a happy little squeak and drags him inside the bedroom. Right before she yanks his shirt over his head, he smirks. He should be a fucking actor, too.


	12. The wedding

Prompt

"You were the first person I ever kissed, and although there's been a lot of kissing others in between, I've never really given up on the idea that you'd be the last person I kissed either."

* * *

"Rachel, she needs you."

Rachel turns the moment she hears Tina's voice and then she smiles, nodding at the wedding planner, before excusing herself and slipping away to follow Tina down the long corridor.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks, her voice laced with worried.

Tina sighs. "She kept asking, 'Aunt Tina, am I doing the right thing?' over and over again and finally she broke down and asked for you."

When Rachel gets to the wooden door that closes her daughter off from the rest of the world, she hugs Tina quickly and then steps inside. The room is dark and she can hear sniffles coming from the corner. She flips on the light and spies her daughter sitting on the couch, her elaborate wedding dress sprawling around her, a Kleenex in her hand, and tears on her face.

"Mom," she says weakly, and then adds with a wail, "_Mommy._"

Rachel is quickly at Lucy's side, dropping onto the couch and wrapping her arms around her daughter's shoulders. Her make-up is already ruined and will have to be touched up but the pain in Lucy's eyes stops Rachel from noticing anything else.

"Baby, what is it?" Rachel asks, her hand settling on the back of Lucy's neck in the same way that her own husband touches her when she needs comfort.

"Am I doing the right thing, Mom? Is Jeff the right guy for me? What if…" Lucy stops crying and a sob leaves from her throat before more tears leak from her eyes. When she starts again, her voice is watery. "What if I marry him and then discover that he _wasn't _the right man for me? Mom? How can I know? I'm going to have sex with just this man for the _rest of my life_, Mom. What if he's the wrong guy?" She pulls her head up and meets her mother's eyes. "How did you know Daddy was the right man for you? You guys are so close and so in tune with each other and, Mom, I want that for myself but… How did you know that Daddy was the one you were supposed to spend your life with?"

Rachel kisses her daughter's cheek and then sits back on the couch, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling as she thinks back to a time, two decades before, when she felt a lot of what her daughter is feeling at that exact moment. "Well, honey, I was engaged to be married to another man and—"

Rachel is cut off by Lucy's gasp, her eyes wide at the secret her mother has just revealed. Rachel squeezes her hand and says, "Your Aunt Tina threw a huge engagement party for me back home in Lima and so I went, of course. And things were going just fine until your father showed up. He was slightly drunk and from what I could tell, really, _really _furious. It didn't make any sense to me because we had broken up two years before and he had moved on, from what I'd heard, just as I had. But still, he stood against the wall during the entire party, glaring at me. And then, he just left. He didn't even say a word to me and left!"

Lucy stares at her mother, her gaze wordlessly urging Rachel to continue the story. "So I went back to your grandfathers' houses and tried and tried to get the look on Noah's face out of my head and I just couldn't. I had no idea why he was so angry but I wasn't about to let it go."

"Of course you weren't," Lucy says with a smile, nudging her mother with her shoulder. "When have you ever let _anything_ go?"

Rachel grins. "Exactly. So I stormed over to his house, smiled at his mother, and basically pushed my way into his bedroom. He was sitting on his bed with his guitar on his legs and when I walked in, he looked at me and said, 'You're being stupid'. I immediately demanded to know why he would say such an awful thing and then he went on this tangent about how stupid it was for me to get married when I wasn't even out of college yet and that I was ruining my whole life and that he wasn't going to stand by to let me marry 'some stupid, curly-haired douche with an asshole for a face'."

Lucy lets out a laugh and shakes her head. "Dad's never had tact, has he?"

Rachel smiles. "It's part of his charm, I suppose. It seems to work for him."

Grinning fondly at thoughts of her father, Lucy prods, "And then what happened?"

Rachel's mind drifts again to that day in Lima and she says, "And then all the anger seemed to drain out of him and he looked up at me and said the words that changed everything. He told me, 'You were the first person I ever kissed, and although there's been a lot of kissing others in between, I've never really given up on the idea that you'd be the last person I kissed, either. And if you want to marry him and you really, really love him, Rachel, I'll disappear and you'll never hear from me again. But I still love you and I can't give you up without at least telling you that I'm here, that I've always been here, and that I want the chance to always be there'." Rachel dabs at her eyes as she remembers that warm, sunny day and the way she felt like Noah's house was closing in on her, his words wrapping around her heart.

"What did you do, Mom?"

Letting out a sad laugh, Rachel continues. "I ran, baby. I didn't know what to do so I ran. See, the thing about your father was that even when we weren't together, he _was_ always there. He _was _my first kiss. We were 7 years old and on the playground when he told me he liked my dress, even though it was 'stupid, girly pink' and then he kissed me. And in high school, first he bullied me and then he became my friend and when I was dating Jesse and then Finn, he was always there, right on the fringes of my life. Even when I tried to ignore him, I never could. When we finally started dating at the end of our Junior year, everything seemed to fall into place. But going away to college tore us apart because of the distance and so when we broke up, it wasn't because I didn't love him anymore."

Lucy stares at her mother, her mouth slightly open. "So you obviously called off the wedding to Asshole Face but how?"

Rachel laughs and shakes her head at the young woman who is so much like her father. "I went back to New York, ate far too much ice cream for the health of my vocal cords, cried for three days, realized that I did still love your father, and then gave Reginald the ring back."

"Reginald?" Lucy bites out, laughter shaking her small frame. "You were about to spend the rest of your life with a man named Reginald? What the hell were you thinking, Mom? That is _so _unsexy."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I know that _now, _honey. Hindsight is 20/20, believe me. But anyway, I returned the ring to Reginald and flew back to Ohio, wandered around the OSU campus until I found your father, and told him that if the offer still stood, I'd love to be the last person he kissed after all."

Lucy lets out a happy little sigh and leans against her mother. "And then you got married and had me and Will and Melody."

"Exactly," Rachel says, kissing her daughter's forehead as she smoothes back a few strands of hair that have worked loose from her upswept hair. "So the point of the story is this – Is Jeff the last person you ever want to kiss? Is he who you see yourself with in twenty years? Forty years?"

"I can't imagine life with anyone else," Lucy breezes dreamily.

Rachel stands up, pulling her daughter up with her, and then starts brushing out the wrinkles in Lucy's Vivian Westwood dress before straightening the bodice. Satisfied, she places her hands on her daughter's bare shoulders and meets her gaze. "Good. I'm sending the make-up artist back in here to fix your mascara. No more tears, young lady. You have a man to marry in ten minutes and if we don't get this wedding over with soon, your father's going to lose his mind. Uncle Mike is outside with him right now, trying to calm him down."

Lucy smiles, her hazel eyes shimmering, and she hugs her mother tightly. "I love you, Mom. Thanks."

Rachel hugs her back just as tightly and says, "I love you, too, baby."

…

"Did you get her under control?"

Rachel hears the deep timbre of her husband's voice as soon as she steps back out into the hallway and she turns toward him. Once he's got his arms around her waist and he's done kissing her far too inappropriately for inside a synagogue, he says, "Tina told me that Luce was havin' a meltdown. If she doesn't want to marry this prick, she doesn't have to, Rach. She can do better than him."

Rachel laughs. "Really, Noah? He's in medical school and he wants to be a pediatrician for Doctors Without Borders. That seems like quite an honorable man to me. I'm not sure how much 'better' you'd like her to do."

Puck rolls his eyes at his wife and groans, "Whatever. Anyway, what's her problem? I mean, I know she's all dramatic and shit like you…"

Tucking his large hand into her smaller one, Rachel ignores his barb and pulls him down the hallway and back toward the staging area. "She was afraid that she wasn't marrying the right man. So I told her the story of how we got together and she's fine now."

Puck stops, his body tense, and he says, "You told her about Asshole?"

"I did, Noah. She needed to know. And it calmed her down because, as it turns out, she feels exactly the way about Jeff that you and I felt about each other."

Puck groans. "Oh shit, does this mean she's gonna get pregnant on her honeymoon, too? Baby, I can't handle being a grandfather yet. Look at me?" Puck motions toward his toned abdomen and his muscular arms, visible even through his tuxedo. "Do you see any grandpas that look as awesome as I do at the gym? Fuck, no. They've all got saggy asses and wrinkles and shit. I refuse to be a grandfather until I have at least _one_ gray hair."

"Noah Puckerman," Rachel groans. "Shut up and go check on your future son-in-law."


	13. Crumbs

Prompt:

"I got all hungry and lightheaded during. She fed me crackers while she rode me. Crumbs _everywhere_."

* * *

When Rachel Berry wants something, she gets it. When she was three years old and she wanted a pony, she argued until her fathers fenced in the backyard and got her a miniature one. When she was seven, she wanted a dance studio in her basement and her fathers hired contractors. When she was sixteen, she wanted a car but insisted that it be environmentally conscious, sensible, and easy to drive. She got one.

And now that she's Rachel Berry-Puckerman, that shit hasn't changed one fucking bit. Puck married her crazy ass three years ago and life is absolutely fucking awesome. He couldn't have dreamed of snagging himself a better woman. She's always concerned with his well-being, she feeds him vitamin C every winter to make sure he doesn't get sick (New York winters are a bitch), and she makes these really elaborate, special desserts for him when she has the time because she knows he loves him. But three months ago, Rachel decided that it was time they have a baby. Puck shrugged, said, "Sure, why not?" and Rachel tossed her birth control pills in the trash. He figured she'd be knocked up in no time because he knows he's potent (teenage pregnancy is at least good for _something_) and they usually fuck like bunnies so he figured he'd put it to her good a few times and _boom_, she'd be filled to overflowing with his spawn.

Yeah, well, that shit hasn't worked out so well. And Rachel's getting frustrated because when she wants something, she _gets it. _

On a Thursday, he heads home from work during one of the worst snowstorms in the history of New York. Traffic is snarled everywhere and their apartment is eleven blocks from the subway station. Normally, it's no big deal and he enjoys the walk. But in two feet of snow and a pair of wet, soaked jeans, he's pretty sure he's gonna die. When he gets home, he's shivering, his teeth are chattering, his hair is soaked, and he's almost positive that he has pneumonia.

Rachel is all over him, of course. She quickly helps him out of his clothes and into a pair of dry sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Then she tucks him into the bed and makes him a cup of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. He sleeps for a while but when he wakes up, he's coughing a little bit and the room is spinning more than that time he did mushrooms with Finn when they were 17. Rachel comes to the rescue, though, and brings him some chicken noodle soup and an entire sleeve of those buttery Ritz crackers because he fuckin' loves them. Puck downs the soup, drinking the broth when all the noodles are gone, munches down a few crackers, and then falls back to sleep.

When he wakes up again, the snow is still swirling outside and the sun is beginning to set. And his hot wife is sitting on the foot of the bed, leaning back on her haunches as she pulls off her shirt. She sees him watching her and she meets his eyes as she reaches around to undo the clasp of her bra. "I'm ovulating, Noah. Today is the absolute perfect time for conception. If we don't get pregnant this month, I'm probably going to launch into a panic attack and I know that you don't want that, right?"

Puck shakes his head quickly, images of her last freak-out running through his mind. (It was _bad_… He can't even… just trust him, it was bad.)

Rachel shifts and slides her panties down her legs and tosses them over her head. She's biting her lip and Puck's pretty sure that she's trying to be seductive (her attempts at seductive usually just come off as awkward but he's okay with that because it still makes him need to rail her) and normally, he'd be all over that shit…but his head is spinning right this second and he kinda feels like shit.

Crawling across the bed, Rachel jerks the covers off his body and then she's all handsy, shoving his shirt up to drag her lips across his abdomen. She locks her eyes with his and than opens her mouth and licks her hand before sliding it inside his sweatpants. He goes from "I'm so sick" to hard as fuck in about a second and then he's lifting his hips to shove his pants down his legs. As he's pulling his shirt over his head, he feels her warm mouth surround his cock and all the blood rushes from his head straight to his groin. He groans because the blood rush leaves him dizzy again but Rachel thinks it means that he's ready (and he is hard), so she strokes him a few more times, positions him j_uuuuu_st ride, and takes him inside her.

Her hands settle on his chest and she throws her head back and lifts herself up, almost pulling herself completely off him before slamming back. Now, he's all for this shit because he loves it when his baby's a cowgirl but he's so fucking lightheaded that he feels like he's on one of those loop-to-loop roller coasters. And his girl needs his juice and he wants to give it to her.

Rachel rocks her hips and leans forward until her lips are hovering over hers. "I need you to fuck me, Noah… hard. I need to feel you everywhere."

Puck grunts because _goddammit_, why is she picking now to talk dirty? The most he usually gets out of her is "more" or "harder" because he does all the dirty talking. Fuck his life. Seriously…

Puck makes a face and Rachel pulls back, pushing herself down on him again as she stares at his grimace. "What's wrong?"

His hands slide to her hips and he tries to look at her but her face is twisting around and she's got four eyes. "Sorry, babe… I think I'm comin' down with something. I'm all lightheaded and shit. I'm not sure… I mean…" He feels like a dick because he's never, _ever_ copped out on sex before and especially not since she decided that they needed to spawn.

Rachel bites her lip and he can see her wheels spinning. She glances around the room while she rolls her hips and forcing him deeper inside her, letting out a little moan, and her eyes settle on the bedside table.

Before he can figure out what she's doing, she's shoving a cracker into his mouth. "You need sustenance, Noah. Eat this."

Puck stares at her because seriously? He's got his cock inside her and she's trying to feed him? But then the room spins again and he complies, opening his mouth. He chews the cracker and she bends to kiss him, licking the crumbs from his lips. He groans against her lips and bucks up into her body because he loves when she does that shit. Soon, another cracker is being placed on his lips and he eats that one, too. Then he grips her hips, presses her against him to hold her still, and jerks his hips against her. Rachel yelps because he's so goddamn deep and the sleeve of crackers in her hand starts to crumble as she squeezes it while she throws her head back and swears. She feeds him another half a cracker and he chews it, rolling his hips in time with the movement of his jaw, until she's keening on top of him. He can't help but think that they've just crossed into a whole new level of kink but when she slides almost all the way off of him and then pushes back down with so much force that he nearly doubles over, he decides he likes this kinky shit.

Puck grabs Rachel's ass and rolls her over onto her back. The sleeve of crackers flies apart from the holes her fingernails punctured and crumbs go flinging across the bed. He barely notices that the room is raining buttery deliciousness, though, because he's got her leg over his shoulder, his fingers wrapped around her ankle, and he's surging into her over and over again.

He finishes strong, pushing his body into hers so hard and so fast that she has to brace herself against the headboard to keep from giving herself a concussion. And there are cracker crumbs every-fucking-where. They're in the sheets and on the pillows and clinging to their skin and even in her hair. And fuck, he thinks there may even be some in his eye. But he comes so hard that he lets out a growl that the neighbors can hear and stays inside her until he's sure she's milked him for every last drop. As soon as he stops throbbing, she pushes him off her, shoves three cracker-covered pillows under her hips, and elevates herself to help his sperm find there way to her egg.

"S'big fucking mess in here now," Puck observes, breath still raspy, as he lies back. He makes a face when he hears the sleeve of crackers crinkle beneath him and so he yanks it out, glances at what's left of the crackers (looks like a fuckin' bomb went off inside the package), and tosses them on the floor. He rolls over, throws his arm across his wife's elevated hips, and closes his eyes.

"My head's not spinnin' anymore," he says against her temple.

Rachel nods against him and says, "You just needed a little nourishment. Trust me, Noah. I know what you need."

Puck sighs against her skin and inhales. She smells like Ritz crackers and inexplicably, it makes him want her all over again.

…

Three weeks later, she pees on a stick and sees a plus sign. Puck insists on calling their baby "Cracker" throughout the entire pregnancy.


	14. Eden

Prompt:

It's a photo of an adorable little girl holding a video game controller. (To see it, remove the spaces and go here: http:/ /goingvintage. livejournal. com/ 24850. html)

* * *

This whole fatherhood thing? He's got it on lock.

Shitty diapers, even the runny, green ones that make Rachel's nose wrinkle and her face turn a pale shade? He's got it. He doesn't even fucking flinch. Spit up? Not a problem. Even when Eden went through a spewing phase that left them both convinced that their child was possessed, it was no big deal to him. He just changed his shirt and moved the fuck on. Rachel, however, began extensive online research about what could possibly be upsetting their little girl's tummy so much. While she was convinced that Eden might have some form of intestinal parasite and was about to make an appointment with a specialist, Puck buckled Eden into her car seat, drove her to Dr. Vyas, and discovered that she had a milk allergy. They switched her to soy milk and the veil of vomit that seemed to shroud their Brooklyn walk-up began to dissipate. And every time Eden falls down and Rachel shrieks in octaves that upset the neighbor's ugly hairless rat-looking dog, Puck just picks his baby girl up, dusts her off, and kisses her boo boo. She beams at her daddy, her tears dry up, and all is well in the Berry-Puckerman household once again.

Seriously, he's got all this fathering shit _down. _

Well, almost. There's one tiny little area of parenting in which his girlfriend excels that he hasn't yet been able to.

He can't tell Eden "no."

He's tried. Believe him, he has fucking _tried_. There was the time when he spotted his 18-month-old daughter trying to climb into a chair and swipe some of her mommy's famous vegan chocolate chip cookies that were cooling on the table, Puck told her no and lifted her off the padded seat, setting her chubby little feet back onto the floor. Eden's big brown eyes turned toward him and he watched as the liquid began to pool. Her soft, pink lips (totally from his genes) puckered and then she let out the most pathetic little wail he'd ever heard. Two seconds later, she was happily munching on a cookie and making a mess all over the yellow sundress Rachel had just dressed her in.

And even though his daughter has a devious streak already and is always getting into things she's supposed to be leaving alone (Mommy's make-up, Daddy's cell phone, Mommy's purse, Daddy's DVD player, Daddy's game system), it rips his damn heart out to tell his baby girl "no." At night, once Eden is safely tucked into her pink bed in her pink room, Puck and Rachel curl up on the couch, watch the news, and talk about their day. And inevitably, Rachel complains about how they always end up playing "good cop, bad cop" with Eden and she always ends up as the bad cop.

"You have to create boundaries for her, Noah. It's okay to deny her something."

Puck scoffs. "You have a goddamn heart of stone, Rachel. How you tell her no and then she starts crying and then you _still _fuckingtell her no, I'll never understand." He reclines on the couch, his head in her lap, and her fingers slide across his scalp, weaving through his short hair. He lets out a little contented sigh.

"You give in too easily, Noah. She always wants what she can't have. It's just her nature. She's…she's _you _in toddler, female form."

Puck barks out a laugh and ticks his eyes toward his forehead, scowling at Rachel. "Baby, that's _all_ you, not me. And anyway, I can't help it that you deny her all the cool, electronic shit that all her friends at the Gymboree have. She _likes _things that flash and make noise. Her eyes light up and it's as adorable as shit."

Rachel groans and tugs at his hair. "Those toys do nothing but stimulate her mind to the point where she can't sleep. They provide no real learning opportunities at this stage. She's 18-months-old, Noah. She needs blocks and dolls and reading books and simple, classic toys. When she's older, I can understand it. But right now, I want to keep her innocent and away from the noise and brain pollution that those stupid toys provide. I will _not _be one of those mothers who has a five-year-old with her own cell phone and laptop."

"Rach, letting her play with talking toys isn't going to dumb her down. And I promise you, no kid of mine is going to be worrying about charging her fucking iPhone when she's 5. Let her play with some cool shit and she won't constantly be grabbing at _ours. _If I remember, it wasn't _my_ iPhone that took a swim in the toilet. That was all you, babe."

Rachel sighs again and says, "I'm tired, Noah. I don't want to argue tonight, either." Puck stands up, a retort still forming in his mind about why she's wrong (because she usually _is _wrong even though she won't admit it), and pulls her up with him and then they make their way through the apartment, flipping off lights as they go. Once they're in the bedroom, he kicks the door closed and nudges Rachel back onto the sheets. She sighs in his arms and he decides that he'll let the discussion go tonight in favor of more entertaining things.

…

The next morning, he goes out for a jog. When he gets home, Rachel hands him Eden and tells him she's going to go take a bubble bath. He sits her in front of her stupid, boring blocks that are spread out in the living room and makes his way to the bedroom to change out of his sweaty shirt. By the time he gets back, the blocks have been abandoned and Eden is nowhere in sight. He knows immediately where she is, of course, because it's where she _always _goes.

When he steps into his "mancave" (or in this case, the spare bedroom that holds his huge TV and video game system and guitar), Eden freezes. She's got his game controller in her hand and her eyes are wide, her long lashes spiked toward him. Her mouth is slightly open like she _knows _she's been caught and she _knows _she's in trouble. He watches her for a moment, the thin little strap of her green sundress sliding down her chubby arm. She's watching him, too, and he feels like he's having a standoff with a toddler. Finally, he moves forward and crouches down, eye level with his daughter.

"Whatcha got, kiddo?"

"Game!" Eden says excitedly, pushing the white controller toward him.

Puck can't help but laugh as he takes it from her. She points at the TV, her chubby index finger extended, and she asks, "Play?" He turns his head, craning his neck to listen and hears Rachel still splashing around in the tub. Looking back at his daughter, who now has her hands clasped together as she bounces on the balls of her feet, he grins and flips the TV and then the game system on. Eden squeals and claps and turns her attention toward the TV.

Puck pops in the Mario Kart disc and when the game fires up, he looks at Eden. She's seen him play this game before because when Uncle Finn and Aunt Santana come over, he and Finn always end up playing games and Eden loves to watch. "Which one do you want to be, baby?" She looks at him curiously and he points at the TV. "You have to pick one. Do you want to be the red guy? Or the blue guy? Or the green dinosaur?" Her eyes settle on the screen and Puck can tell that she's seriously considering his question. Finally, she toddles over to the TV and her little finger settles on Yoshi. _Of course_ it's Yoshi. She loves anything green and is presently going through a dinosaur phase. So Puck selects Yoshi and then the game starts up. Eden's eyes widen as she watches.

"E, baby, come over here," Puck motions with the controller and then pats his lap. Eden crosses the room as fast as her chubby legs will carry her and she throws herself down into her daddy's lap. He puts his arms around her and places the controller right in front of her.

"Okay. To make the green guy move, you have to push this button, see?" He pushes the button and the sound of a car filters out of the surround sound speakers. Eden's eyes light up and she says, "Again!"

Puck chuckles and says, "Why don't you do it?"

Eden's timid at first. Her finger extends and she brushes it over the knob but not enough to actually cause pressure. She looks at the screen and then screws up her face, her lips pouting, when she sees that Yoshi is still in the same spot. She turns her head back, eyeing her father through her lashes, and silently wills him to help her. Grabbing her hand, he helps her press on it enough that Yoshi careens down the track and then off the side, bouncing off the wall. Eden's peal of laughter echoes throughout the room and Puck can't help but laugh with her. She knocks his hand away and presses hard on the button and Yoshi spins across the track and into the opposite wall. She squeals and points at the screen proudly.

"I know, baby," Puck says as he kisses the top of her head, "You did an awesome job."

"Again!" she demands.

Groaning (because he realizes that he might have just created a monster) but smiling because his baby girl is so happy, Puck takes the controller and gets Yoshi back on the track before handing it back to Eden. She swipes it from him and he drops his head against her little shoulder and watches as Yoshi bounces from one side of the track to the other. Eden stops to periodically grin at him and he's almost positive that he's seen that exact look on Rachel's face before, too. She was just as proud winning her Tony as his daughter is at that moment, learning how to (kind of) play Mario Kart.

They're still playing the game when Rachel comes into the room a while later. She's got on the tiny shorts and tight tank top that he loves and her hair is still wrapped up in a big fluffy towel.

"I know," Puck says before she can start to bitch. "I know she's not supposed to play with this stuff but look at her, Rach. Look at how happy she is? I think it's time we buy her some electronic shit of her own."

"Shit!" Eden repeats, clapping her hands proudly.

"Eden!" Rachel shrieks. "Do _not_ say bad words!" Glaring at Puck, she says, "I've told you time and time again, Puckerman, to watch your mouth. I knew it was just a matter of time before she began repeating your vile language." Rachel swoops in and picks up her daughter, cuddling her against her chest like she's just witnessed a horrible tragedy and not uttered one measly bad word. "C'mon, baby, let's go play with some blocks."

Puck watches his girls leave the room and smiles, pleased with himself. He didn't really plan on it but he _totally_ just won the battle. Now that Eden's parroted his admittedly coarse language, Rachel's going to be more concerned about her daughter swearing like a sailor in front of strangers than she _ever_ was about Eden playing with electronic toys. He cocks his head and sees the blue box peeking out from behind his television. He'll just swear a few more times today, Eden will repeat them, and Rachel's focus will be forever off the whole "no electronics" thing. Tomorrow will be the perfect time to give Eden the "Baby's First Laptop" toy that he's had for her for months.


	15. The photos

**Prompt:** "I never knew how much he loved me until he showed me the pictures of us he kept in his Army helmet for 4 years."

* * *

The majority of her heart has belonged to Finn Hudson since she was 15. From the very first time he opened his mouth in Glee club, her heart beat for him. Through deceit and pregnancy and the kind of angst that can only come from teenagers, she focused on his crooked grin and the twinkle in his eye. And it made everything worth it.

But then there's this tiny part of her heart - just a fragment, really - that has been Noah Puckerman's for nearly as long as the rest of it has belonged to Finn. She's not sure when or how he wormed his way in but all she knows is that he's not leaving. And that tiny part of her heart – the small part the beats for the quiet gazes from expressive hazel eyes and the gentle squeeze on her shoulder or nod from across the room – is the part that continually feels like it's being stomped on, run over, ripped out, or just shattered.

She knows it would be so easy to just forget about him because then, all of her heart could belong to Finn. That's what she wants, after all. And for a while, right after Noah leaves for boot camp and she doesn't hear from him, she thinks she's finally going to be able to forget the way he makes her heart constrict and her lungs seize up when he's around. She actually thinks that maybe life with him as _nothing _more than a friend is possible.

But then he comes home on leave while everyone is home from college and Rachel can tell immediately that he's different. She hasn't physically seen him in two years because his leaves never coincided with her school breaks and they've only exchanged a handful of short emails in that time. But she can tell in an instant that he's changed. He's even quieter and, if possible, Rachel thinks that he seems more subdued than he was before. Finn throws him a huge party and Noah doesn't even bother to get drunk. He takes shallow pulls from a beer bottle all night as he works the room. He spends nearly an hour talking to Santana and Brittany before moving on to catch up with Artie. Rachel finds herself waiting for his gaze to find its way to her because it always has. From across the hall, across the cafeteria, across the choir room – his eyes always ended up locking with hers, even if for just the briefest of moments. But then he looks right at her and Rachel feels like she's not even standing there. His gaze is full of unfamiliarity and disinterest and his eyes glide right over her before landing on Quinn and settling. And when the party is over, he's spoken to everyone but her. Rachel tries not to let it bother her. She goes about the business of being a good girlfriend-of-the-host, picking up discarded beer bottles, throwing away the empty pizza boxes, and waiting. She waits for his inevitable "thank you" that will come with his hands shoved in his pockets while he sheepishly stares at the floor.

But it never comes. He bumps fists with Finn and then disappears out the door. Rachel stares after him and confusion registers on her face for a split second before she masks it with a smile and then finishes the clean up. She excuses herself afterwards and heads home, her mind full and that piece of her heart that he owns throbbing so badly from pain that she's not sure what she can do about it.

And then she's standing on his doorstep and he's staring at her like seeing her is the worst possible thing that's ever happened to him.

"What?" is all he asks.

"Why didn't you speak to me all night, Noah?" she demands. The words come out rushed and angry and she hates the way she sounds but she has to know. She's not sure she'll ever breathe again if he doesn't tell her exactly why.

"Go home, Rachel," is all he says in response. She watches his jaw clench and unclench and she wonders why he looks so furious when she hasn't even done anything to him.

The blood rushes through Rachel's ears and then she's not only sad, she's mad, too. So she raises her voice and asks, "What did I do to you? Why won't you talk to me?"

He suddenly looks defeated but he still doesn't give her the answer she's craving. "Just go home," he repeats.

Rachel's throat is burning and she feels like the little bit of her heart that is his is melting away and it _hurts. _So she turns around and makes her way back to her car. When she starts the engine and looks up at his door, it's closed and the lights are off.

That night, as she drives home, she wonders why the pain in such a minor piece of her heart can make her whole world feel tilted on its axis.

…

They avoid each other for the rest of his short leave. When he heads to Columbus to catch a flight back to Fort Knox, she doesn't bother showing up to say goodbye. She knows he won't speak to her anyway. She doesn't let herself miss him or cry or anything. She just tucks the image of him as strong, tall, and somewhat angry away and tries to forget again. Her whole heart feels better when she does.

* * *

Once he's gone again, life returns to normal. Rachel goes back to New York and throws herself into her junior year at NYU. She and Finn keep up their long-distance romance and she really feels like things are back to the way they're supposed to be. In fact, everything feels right.

But on a Tuesday afternoon in the middle of a New York snowstorm, Finn calls her. Rachel's in her dorm room studying for an exam and she's surprised to hear from him since he should be in class. When she answers, his voice is rushed and hurried. "Puck got shot."

Rachel's breath catches and there are tears on her lashes almost immediately. "What? Where? How?"

Finn's breathing heavily on the other end of the phone and he's not answering fast enough.

"Finn!" she shrieks, "What happened?"

"Insurgents," Finn finally says. "Motherfucking Taliban. He was apparently on patrol and the fuckers shot him."

Rachel can barely bring herself to ask the next question. Her body sinks to the floor and she curls into herself when she squeaks out, "Is he dead? Oh God, Finn, is he dead?"

"No," Finn says quickly. "Don't know how bad he is but according to his mom, he's still alive."

Tears pour down Rachel's cheeks and she nods silently into the phone. He's still alive. He's not dead. She hasn't lost him.

When she and Finn hang up, she has no idea where Noah is or if he's badly hurt. All she knows is that the tiny part of her heart that has his name etched into it is making her full heart pound erratically at the thought that he might not make it.

She cries herself to sleep that night.

…

Noah survives. Finn finally finds out that he took a bullet in his lower back and it tore through his lungs. It takes a lot of surgery and the hard work of good Army doctors but he's going to live. Rachel's thankful that he's going to make it. She goes to the synagogue closest to campus and thanks God for saving him. And then she cries again because she can't be there for him. She thinks about his blatant rejection of her the last time they were together and her cries turn into sobs. When Rabbi Greenblatt rubs her back and pats her shoulder, Rachel attempts to tell him what's wrong. But then she realizes that trying to explain to the nice, elderly Rabbi that she loves one man completely and another one in a way that goes far beyond the reach of friendship just makes her sound ridiculous so she clams up instead. It's too complicated to explain.

* * *

Another year goes by. She hears from Finn that Noah came home to Lima for a few days before he had his final physical check with the Army doctors. They sat around drinking beer and hanging out and then he was gone again. A week later, after being told that he was once again at 100% health, he's re-deployed to Afghanistan.

Rachel ignores the way her hands shake and her lungs feel clogged that night as she goes to bed, her mind on how he's in harm's way once again. When she has a dream that he's dying, his blood leaking from his mouth and down onto the sand beneath him, turning it the most horrid shade of red that she's ever seen, the piece of her heart that belongs just to him cracks. The pain of it wakes her up.

…

Finn shows up in New York to celebrate their five-year anniversary. It's romantic and wonderful. He holds her tightly against him as they walk through Central Park and she lets herself completely forget about the part of her heart that isn't his and somehow, for a brief time, _all_ of her heart belongs to him. It's nice, really.

Since she has roommates, he takes her back to his hotel and they keep each other awake most of the night with kisses and caresses. For once, Rachel doesn't even let herself think about Noah as Finn's mouth leaves a wet trail down her abdomen.

* * *

The summer after she graduates, she comes home. She loves New York and she plans on staying there but sometimes, she just needs a break from it all. Dad and Daddy are happy to have her home and she spends a few quiet weeks relaxing. She sees Finn, of course, but she has a lot of time to herself.

At night, when she's sitting on the tiny little balcony that's off her second-story bedroom, she looks at the stars and wonders how Noah's doing. At Temple the week before, she ran into Mrs. Puckerman, who told her that Noah was stateside again and was being honorably discharged before the end of the summer after four years of service. And he's earned himself a Purple Heart in the process. Rachel automatically thinks that he's earned more than just a _purple _heart because he's had part of hers for much longer.

…

A month after she gets home, the fight happens. She doesn't know where it comes from or why it's even happening but soon, she and Finn are flinging accusations at one another. He doesn't feel like she loves him as much as he loves her and she tells him that he's both irrational and a little bit insane. When he tells her that he always feels like she holds a part of herself back, she breaks down. She wants to disagree and tell him that they can work on their relationship but he's right. After the right words won't come and she realizes that she's unable to argue with the truth, she asks him to leave.

…

Not too long after the fight, her Dad tells her that Noah is back in town and that he's looking healthy. Rachel nods, feigning disinterest, and ignores the rushing of blood through her veins. As much as she wants to see him, she refuses to seek him out. They haven't spoken in so long that she wouldn't know what to say anyway.

Three days later, Finn calls her. They haven't spoken since the break-up so Rachel's surprised to hear from him. "Look," he begins. "I know we're kinda weird and on the outs and whatever but we're having a welcome home party for Puck and I thought you'd like to be here. It's on Friday."

Rachel thanks him for the call and finds herself at a crossroads. The majority of her wants to stay home because she's afraid of the icy reception she'll get from her. But the part of her that loves him and has since she was just a girl knows that she'll show up anyway.

* * *

Finn and Kurt's house is packed with people when Rachel arrives. She's not sure she's ever seen so many people crammed into a house before. When she steps into the living room, she immediately spots Noah. He's got his shirt pulled up and he's pointing at the bullet hole in his back. Everyone is staring at him in awe and Rachel's eyes land on his toned muscles and then the small scar that shows that the bullet may have gone into his back but it exited his front. Rachel has to suppress the urge to rush up to him and smother his face with kisses because she's _so _happy to see him. When he lifts his head and drops his shirt, he sees her and nods. Rachel's shocked but undeniably happy that he's acknowledging her so she gives him a little wave as her heart picks up its pace inside her chest.

The optimism, though, fails to last. People never leave his side for the entire night and she's unable to even get close enough to have a private word with him. She spends her time talking to Sam and Mike and tracking Noah's movements out of the corner of her eye. She knows that her conversation is distracted but she can't help it. She can't keep her mind on the men in front of her when the one man that she's dying to talk to is on the other side of the room.

She excuses herself when it's getting late and finds a bottle of water in the empty kitchen. As she's twisting the top off and taking a sip, the kitchen door opens and Noah walks in. She stops mid-gulp and then blushes when water trickles down her chin as she gazes at him.

"Hey," he says softly.

"Hi." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and wonders why she suddenly feels like she's 15 all over again.

"How are you?" he asks.

Rachel relishes in his voice because she hasn't heard it in so long. She feels his gaze sweep over her and the hair on the back of her slim neck prickles in awareness.

"I'm fine. How are you?" She finally answers.

Noah shrugs and grins. "Good. Fucking glad to be home."

They stare at one another and then both of them open their mouths and say the other's name at the exact same time. Rachel lets out a breathy laugh just as the kitchen door is pushing open and Finn is stepping inside. He steals Noah's attention away, saying, "Dude, they're waiting on you out there."

Puck nods and looks back at Rachel. "We'll talk," he promises. And then he's gone.

Rachel wonders if he'll be true to his word.

…

She expects it to be days or even weeks before they talk. And she's not sure that they have anything to say to one another. They – the drama school graduate and the ex-combat hero - haven't had a real conversation in years and can't possibly have anything to talk about. She's afraid that the exchange will be a disaster but the part of her heart that beats loudly when he's around needs it to happen anyway.

And it does. Three hours later, to be exact.

Rachel is sitting in the living room despite the fact that it's nearly 4am. She's restless and frustrated and scared and happy and all the emotions are balled up and sitting inside her stomach like a weight. She can't possibly sleep so she's reading beneath the soft glow of the lamp when she hears a knock on the door. She knows immediately that it's Noah.

Her heart is practically bouncing around her chest when she pulls open the heavy oak door. Immediately, something cold is shoved into her hands as he steps past her and into the foyer. She glances down and realizes that she's staring down into a helmet.

Looking up at him, her eyes are full of questions.

"S'my helmet," he says.

"I can see that," Rachel says evenly, despite her erratic pulse rate. "But why am I holding it?"

Noah jerks the helmet from her hands just as fast as he gave it to her and sinks his hand into it. When he pulls it out, he's holding three photos. He pushes them into her hand and walks away from her, toward the living room.

When she looks down, a tiny version of herself is staring up at her in the form of her senior picture. She flips to the next picture and sees that it was one that was taken the day everyone went to the pool. She's in a white bikini and he's in dark green swim trunks and his arm is around her shoulder. The third picture is of the two of them after a show choir competition.

She's confused. Looking at up him, she asks, "Why do you have these now?"

He drops onto the couch and tosses his helmet carelessly to the side. It bounces on the couch cushions and crashes to the floor but Noah ignores it because he's staring intently at her. "I've always had 'em."

His short, cryptic answers are unnerving her so she stomps into the room and sits down next to him. "But why did you pull them from your helmet?"

Noah rolls his eyes and stares at her. "Because that's where I keep 'em, Rach! It's where I kept them for _four_ fucking years. They were safest there. And it meant that they were always nearby."

Questions dance through Rachel's head. She still doesn't know what to make of it all and her eyes tell him that when she meets his dark gaze. "I don't understand."

Noah sighs and pulls the pictures from her hand. He sits them down on the table and then turns toward her. "It was all I had of you."

He's still being so brief and his words are so quiet that Rachel wants to scream but then she looks at him. _Really _takes a long look at him. His eyes are wide and she's not sure she's ever seen him look so vulnerable. It's then that she understands. The understanding hits her like a rush of wind or the overwhelming feeling of sheer relief because it all makes sense. The uncomfortable silences, the avoidance, the rejection – it _all_ makes sense.

Rachel reaches for him as tears form and he's quick to touch her. He pulls her onto his lap and buries his face in her neck. She hears him inhale and then he says, "You still smell the same. God, I've missed the way you smell."

She winds her arms around his neck and she lets the tears spill over. He kisses her softly and it's the first time they've kissed since they were sophomores in high school. And now she's a 22-year-old woman who is on the cusp of making nearly all her dreams come true and he's a 22-year old-man with bullet holes in his body and a world of experiences that he can't possibly explain to those that haven't lived it, too. But on that couch, they're still just Rachel and Noah. And when they sit silently, their hands gentling over one another's skin as they kiss again and again, Rachel's pretty sure that she's had his heart for just as long as he's had a piece of hers. But now she can give him all of it.


	16. The ring

**Prompt**: Photo prompt of a baby with an engagement ring hanging off her cute little foot.

* * *

Puck takes Rachel home to Lima for a visit when she's in her eighth week of pregnancy. Her fathers are ecstatic that they're about to be grandfathers and his mother, of course, is so fucking excited that she acts like their little Jewish baby might end up being the long-awaited Messiah. She flits around the house talking about nurseries (despite the fact that they live in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment and there's no room for anything larger than a bassinette and a changing table) and maternity clothing until Rachel genuinely falls asleep at the table.

Once Puck carries her upstairs and tucks her into his bed, he meets his mom in the kitchen. Maggie Puckerman is pacing and worrying her lower lip when he walks in.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Puck asks.

Maggie jumps, unaware that he has returned to the room, and grabs a ring box off the counter. Pressing it into his hand, she says, "It was Nana Connie's. And nothing would make her happier, and me, too, than knowing that Rachel had that ring now. Mom adored Rachel and let's face it, she's the best thing that ever happened to your sorry ass. And so is that baby!"

Puck nods because his mom is right on all counts and especially about Nana Connie, who, right up until she died the year before, practically worshipped Rachel. Puck opens the ring box and there's the old ring. Stones set in the band and topped with a diamond, it's classic and beautiful, just like Rachel.

After Puck snaps the box closed and shoves it in his pocket, he starts trying to figure out when the best time to ask her will be.

…

He drags his feet, of course, but finally decides one day when Rachel's in her 17th week of pregnancy that he's going to ask her. He ends up being antsy all damn day at work because he just wants to get home and make it happen.

When he finally pushes open the door to their apartment, though, his plans are thwarted. Rachel's curled into a ball on the couch, used tissues scattered around her, and there are tears streaming down her face. She's watching _The Sound of Music _again.

Puck kicks off his shoes and sits down on the couch, kissing her on the temple as he throws his arm around her. "S'wrong, babe?"

Rachel sniffles loudly and pauses the TV. "Maria," she wails. "She loves Georg but she's not even going to _try _to fight for him. She's just going to run back to the abbey and pretend that she was happy with her life before. She clearly wasn't thriving as a nun and didn't really figure out who she was until she met the Von Trapp family. It's not right, Noah! She should go after him since she loves him!"

Puck has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "Baby, you've seen this movie, like, 50 thousand fucking times. You know how it ends. The shit turns out _fine. _They climb some dumb mountain after they sing that stupid song about a weed and give the Nazis a big 'fuck you' to boot. Why ya care about a movie about a buncha singing Catholics, anyway?"

The shitty glare he gets in response tells him that today is not the day to ask Rachel anything besides what she wants for dinner.

…

He tries again when she's at 22 weeks. He takes her out to dinner, the ring burning a hole in the pocket of his suit jacket, and tries to act casual all the way to the restaurant. When they get to the exclusive French place that Rachel's been babbling on and on about wanting to try out, they're told there was a mistake with their reservation and that they're going to have to wait.

So they wait. For two hours. By the time they're seated, Rachel is snapping at the waitress and threatening to behead the next person that looks at her wrong.

When they get home, Puck slips the ring box back into his closet. He'll ask another day.

…

When she's 29 week pregnant, Puck realizes that he needs to get this whole "engaged" thing taken care of. After he makes her eyes roll back into her head, he slides up her body and kisses her lips, groaning at how hotly she kisses him back so that she can savor the taste of herself on his lips. When she curls into his side (the best she can now that she has quite the baby bump), he decides that he's going to propose to her in the morning before he has to go to work and she has to be at the theater.

There's a power failure over night and his alarm doesn't go off, making them both late. He has to scrap the proposal idea.

…

The next few weeks are full of drama as they pack and move into a two bedroom apartment just two floors below where they currently live. Mike and Tina, who just live a few blocks away, come over to help them pack and move. Puck can't figure out how they've accumulated so much shit in their tiny apartment and when he asks Rachel if he can throw away a heavy box of old papers that he's holding, she bursts into tears and accuses him of not caring about her interests. As it turns out, it's the box that holds her Playbill collection. Mike gives him a sympathetic look as Rachel seethes under her breath at his lack of concern.

Briefly, Puck's relieved that he hasn't yet proposed. She's really scary sometimes.

…

When she's at 34 weeks, they're settling into their apartment. Because they've decided to wait to find out the sex of the baby, the nursery is painted a pastel green and decorated with little duckies. Rachel makes a comment that Aunt Brittany would love the room and then cries for 20 minutes because she hasn't seen many of their friends from Lima in a really long time. Puck holds her against him, kisses that spot on her neck that makes her shiver, and promises that he'll call Finn and invite him and Britt out for a visit soon. It seems to make Rachel happy and she relaxes against him.

They stand in the nursery quietly and Puck feels like it's the right time to finally ask her. The time they have as just Puck and Rachel are winding down quickly and he really wants to make an honest woman of her before the baby is born. He's about to make a total asshat of himself and drop down on one knee when Rachel jumps suddenly, announces that if she doesn't get some spicy Thai food _right this instant _she might die from hunger, and then disappears through the nursery door to put on her shoes.

Puck wonders if he's just not supposed to marry his baby mama after all.

…

The baby comes early, of course. Puck's in the middle of working with a client when the call comes through. He has to quickly call over one of the other personal trainers and get the hell out of there. He nearly pisses himself with worry on the way to to the hospital.

When he finally gets there (goddamn motherfucking Manhattan traffic), Rachel's already in a room and has three nurses buzzing around her. Her face lights up when she sees him and he kisses her just as another contraction starts. When it's over, he finds himself a little shocked because he's never heard Rachel utter so many swear words at one time in her life. When she starts demanding anesthesia, Puck reminds her that she wanted to have a natural birth.

"Well, obviously I was a fucking lunatic when I said that," she snaps.

Puck nods and eyes the nurse. Anesthesia might be a good idea.

…

They have the most perfect baby he's ever seen. She's all pink and a little bit skinny (he's relieved that she didn't come out fat and squashed like Sam and Quinn's kid did) but she has big eyes and a head full of brown hair. She looks just like him, he thinks, but he sees a bit of Rachel in her, too. And when he gets to hold her and she opens her eyes and looks up at him, Puck's so relieved and happy that she's there and she's _theirs to keep _that he nearly cries. _Nearly. _

The fight to pick a baby name starts right after she's born, though. They'd tossed a few names around but hadn't settled on anything since they weren't sure if they were having a boy or a girl. But they come to a decision pretty fast and the next day, they take Isabella Margaret (his mother is going to _shit_) Puckerman home with them.

…

After Isabella comes home, there's no time to propose. She's a pooping machine and when she's not doing that, she's latched onto Rachel's breasts. Puck finds himself jealous because he hasn't gotten to latch on to those babies in _weeks_ and he misses them (especially now because they are _so big._) And when Isabella sleeps, Rachel sleeps so everyone's sleep schedule is all fucked up. He still has to go to work every day and deal with sweaty fat dudes who only pretend to want to get in shape. But now he's doing it with a lot less sleep since Isabella apparently hates quiet and darkness and refuses to sleep at night. It's okay, though, because he can't remember when he's been so happy.

…

When Isabella is six weeks old, he finally gets his chance. His last client of the day can't make it because he had a heart attack (big surprise, Puck thinks, considering the dude always had pizza breath when he came for his workout) so Puck comes home early.

The apartment is quiet when he lets himself inside. Rachel is curled up on the couch, the baby monitor clutched tightly in her hands, and she's fast asleep. Puck peeks his head into the nursery and sees that Isabella is starting to stir. He's getting ready to go pick her up when he gets an idea. He practically tiptoes to the bedroom and digs the ring box out of its hiding spot inside an old jumbo box of condoms (haven't needed _those _for a while obviously) and removes the ring. When he slips back into the nursery, Isabella's eyes are open and she grins at him.

He stares down at his daughter and lets himself marvel at how she's half him and half Rachel. She looks like the perfect blend of both of them and he knows that, by the time she's 18 months old, she's going to be breaking hearts. He also knows that in the future, he's going to be chasing horny boys with stupid haircuts off with baseball bats and it's going to stress him the fuck out. But right now, she's tiny and toothless and grinning at him and he's pretty sure life is perfect. Well…almost.

He slides the ring onto Isabella's big toe, which is actually a tiny toe, and it hangs off. The ring dwarfs her little foot but it looks so awesome that he pulls out his phone and snaps a picture. Just as he's slipping the phone back into his pocket, he hears the floors creak and knows that Rachel's walking in behind him.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asks in a sleepy voice.

Puck shrugs. "You need your rest." He stays facing Isabella, his hand running over her little bare belly, just waiting for Rachel to notice the antique piece of jewelry that their daughter is presently modeling.

"I'm fine, Noah," Rachel says as she slides up next to Puck at the crib. She looks down at Isabella, her smile huge, and her eyes settle on the ring dangling from her daughter's foot. She seems to freeze and Puck's breath catches as he waits to see what she's going to do. She turns toward him, her eyes huge and watery.

"Is that what I think it is?" she asks.

"Yup," Puck says, his voice shaky. "It was Nana Connie's."

Rachel reaches her finger out and runs it along the band. Slowly, she slips it off of Isabella's toe and stares at it for a moment before lifting her eyes toward Puck.

He slips his hands into his pockets. "So…will you?"

Rachel practically shoves the ring down onto her ring finger and then throws her arms around his neck. "I will!" she shrieks into his ear. Puck laughs and wraps his arms around her, relieved that it's _finally_ done. But they only have a moment to themselves because then a putrid smell hits them and they realize that Isabella is back to her old tricks again.

Puck snags the baby from the crib and says, "I'll change her. Go call our parents."

…

The ceremony is tiny. Puck always imagined weddings to take a long time but it only feels like five minutes before he and Rachel go from "living in sin" to "married couple." Rachel cries buckets, though, and even though Puck's afraid she's upset, she assures him that she's just really happy. Sam and Quinn and their fat baby (Jake) are there, as are Santana, Artie, Mike, Tina, Brittany, and Finn. Kurt and Blaine sent their well wishes from Paris and Mercedes promised she'd visit as soon as she was done with her tour. And other than their parents and a few of their New York friends, that's it for wedding guests. It couldn't be more fucking perfect, as far as Puck is concerned. He's so relieved that Rachel didn't turn out to be a bridezilla.

After they all go out for a huge dinner where there is lots of laughing and stories and a few more tears, Puck takes his girls back home to their apartment. There will be no honeymoon and they're both okay with that fact. Isabella requires every spare dime they have and that's exactly the way they want it. She's 15 weeks old and she's the most important thing in the entire world. Rachel's okay with being a close second because she feels the same way. The three of them, Puck thinks, make up a pretty kickass family.


End file.
